Southern  Branch 
of  the 

(niversity  of  California 

Los  Angeles 


Form  L  I 


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This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 

1  Q 


-    1930 


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APR  2  4  1933^ 


-^  i933 

APR  i  4  1936 
MAY  l 8  1935 
i  MAY  1 8  1936 

• 

A  APR  1  9  1938  c 


•     : 


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DEC  2\0  1957 


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•     H  ART  F  <ORB 

PUBLISHED  HY  SAM'UEL   G.  GOODRICH. 


y  D  ' 


THE 

POETICAL  WORKS 

i        > 
OF 

JOHN  TRUMBTJLL,  LL.D. 

CONTAINING 

M'FINGAL, 

A  MODERN  EPIC  POEM, 

REVISED   AND    CORRECTED, 

WITH  COPIOUS  EXPLANATORY  NOTES ; 

THE  PROGRESS  OF   DULNESS  ; 

AND  A  COLLECTION  OF 

POEMS 

ON  VARIOUS  SUBJECTS, 

WRITTEN  BEFORE  AND  DUHINfi  THE  REVOLUTIONARY  WAR. 

IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

VOL.  I. 


HARTFORD : 
PRINTED  FOR  SAMUEL  G.  GOODRICH, 

BY  LINCOLN  c$- [STONE. 
M  DCCC  XT. 


Dittnct  of  Connecticut,  ss. 
P..  "   I   T>E  it  remembered.  That  on  the  seventh  day  of  December,   in  the  forly- 

•-*  fourth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America) 

JOHN  TRUMBULL,  of  the  said  District,  hath  deposited  in  this  office  the  title  of  a 
Book,  the  right  whereof  he  claims  as  Author,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit — "  The 
"Poetical  Works  of  John  Truinbull,  LL.  D.  containing  M'Fingal,  a  modern  epic 
"  poem,  revised  and  corrected,  with  copious  explanatory  notes  ;  the  Progress  of  Dul- 
"  ness  ;  and  a  collection  of  Poems  on  various  subjects,  written  before  and  during  the 
"  Revolutionary  War." 

In  conformity  to  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled  "An  act 
"  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  bv  securing  the  Copies  of  Maps,  Charts  and 
"  Books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during-  the  times  therein  men- 
"tioned."  CHARLES  A.  1NGERSOLL,  Clerk  of  the  District  oj  Connecticut. 

A  true  copy  of  Record,  examined  and  sealed  by  me, 

CHARLES  A.  INGKRSOLL,  Clerk  of  the  District  of  Connecticut. 


"PS 
652 


OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


MEMOIR 

OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF 
JOHN  TRUMBULL,  LL.  D. 


M'FINGAL,  the  principal  Poem  in  this  collection,  has 
been  more  than  forty  years  before  the  public,  and  has  passed 
through  the  ordeal  of  criticism,  in  all  its  various  forms  of  ga- 
zettes, magazines  and  reviews,  both  in  England  and  America. 
Being  published  anonymously,  the  world  were  left  to  their 
conjectures,  as  to  the  author.  The  first  part  of  the  poem,  con- 
taming  the  two  first  cantos,  was  printed  in  Philadelphia,  in 
the  fall  of  the  year  1775  ;  and  in  the  course  of  the  next  year, 
reprinted  in  London,  where  it  passed  through  several  edi- 
tions. The  nature  of  the  subject  and  the  situation  of  the 
times  gave  it  popularity  with  the  anti-ministerial  party,  who 
were  averse  to  the  war  with  America :  but  it  was  asserted 
that  the  author  was  an  Englishman.  Sometimes  he  was  affirm- 
ed to  be  an  Oxford  scholar,  then  on  his  travels  in  this  coun- 
try ;  sometimes  a  British  officer,  who  had  been  superceded  in 
their  service,  had  joined  the  Americans  and  written  the  poem 
in  revenge.  When  it  was  afterwards  discovered  that  the  wri- 
ter was  a  native  of  New-England,  he  of  course  received  his 
due  share  of  that  obloquy  and  contempt,  which  is  lavished  by 


their  compilers  of  reviews,  on  every  thing  which  appertains 
to  this  country.  The  Quarterly  Review,  with  its  usual  accu- 
racy of  information,  has  lately  declared  that  the  poem  was 
written  by  one  Mr.  Fingal,  who,  it  assures  us,  is  no  descend- 
ant of  the  hero  of  Ossian.  The  Edinburgh  Review  contents 
itself  with  simply  asserting  that  "  the  Americans  have  no  lit- 
erature." In  the  United  States,  the  conjectures  were  for  a 
long  time  equally  various ;  and  a(ter  his  name  became  gene- 
rally known,  many  false  anecdotes,  and  several  erroneous  ac- 
counts of  his  life,  have  been  printed  by  those,  who  had  no 
other  information,  than  rumour  and  hearsay.  Hundreds  of 
essays  have  been  charged  upon  his  pen,  containing  principles 
which  he  never  held,  abuse  on  persons  whom  he  respected, 
and  low  attempts  at  humour,  which  would  have  disgraced  the 
scurrility  of  Peter  Pindar.  In  a  word,  to  him  have  been  as- 
cribed, as  he  once  complained, 

"  Jests  he  ne'er  utter'd,  deeds  he  ne'er  atchiev'd, 

Rhymes  he  ne'er  wrote,  and  lives  (thank  heaven)  he  never  lived." 

On  these  accounts  it  seems  necessary,  that  a  short  and  accu- 
rate Memoir  of  his  life  and  writings  should  accompany  this 
collection  of  his  poems. 

The  family  of  Trumbull  was  among  the  early  settlers  in 
New-England.  Their  ancestor  came  from  England,  and  in 
1645  fixed  his  residence  at  Ipswich  in  Massachusetts.  His 
son,  named  John,  removed  and  established  himself  at  Suffield 
in  Connecticut.  He  had  three  sons,  John,  Joseph  and  Beno- 
ni.  whose  descendants  are  still  living  in  this  slate.  The  Rev. 


Benjamin  Trumbull,  D.  D.  the  respectable  historian  of  Con- 
necticut, was  the  grandson  of  Benoni.  Joseph  settled  in  Leb- 
anon, and  at  his  death  left  one  son,  Jonathan  Trumbull,  who 
was  Governor  of  the  State  during  the  whole  revolutionary 
war,  and  whose  patriotic  exertions  are  amply  recorded  in  his- 
tory. Two  of  his  sons  were  Jonathan  Trumbull,  afterwards 
Governor  of  the  State,  and  John  Trumbull,  the  celebrated 
painter,  whose  merits  have  long  been  distinguished,  both  in 
Europe  and  America. 

The  author  of  these  poems  is  the  grandson  of  John  Trum- 
bull, eldest  son  of  him  who  first  settled  in  Suffield.  He  was 
born  on  the  13th  day  of  April,  old  style,  (the  24th  ac- 
cording to  the  present  mode  of  computation,)  in  the  year  1750, 
in  the  parish  of  Westbury,  then  a  part  of  the  town  of  Water- 
bury  in  New-Haven  county,  but  since  formed  into  a  separate 
township,  by  the  name  of  Watertown,  and  annexed  to  the 
county  of  Litchfield.  The  settlement  of  that  village  was  be- 
gun a  few  years  before  his  birth.  His  father,  who  was  the 
first  minister  of  the  Congregational  church  in  that  place,  was  a 
good  classical  scholar,  highly  respected  by  his  brethren,  and 
for  many  years  one  of  the  trustees,  or  Fellows,  of  Yale-Col- 
lege. His  mother  was  a  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Whit- 
man of  Farmington  in  Hartford  county,  and  grand-daughter 
of  the  Rev.  Solomon  Stoddard,  D.  D.  of  Northampton  in 
Massachusetts. 

Being  an  only  son,  and  of  a  very  delicate  and  sickly  consti- 
tution, he  was  of  course  the  favorite  of  his  mother.  She  had 
received  an  education  superior  to  most  of  her  sex,  and 


10 

not  only  instructed  him  in  reading,  from  his  earliest  infancy, 
but  finding  him  possessed  of  an  extraordinary  memory,  taught 
him  all  the  hymns,  songs  and  other  verses,  with  which  she 
was  acquainted.  His  father's  small  library  consisted  mostly 
of  classical  and  theological  books.  The  Spectator  and  Watts' 
Lyric  Poems  were  the  only  works  of  merit  in  the  belles-lettres, 
which  he  possessed.  Young  Trumbull  not  only  committed 
to  memory  most  of  the  poetry  they  contained,  but  was  seized 
with  an  unaccountable  ambition  of  composing  verses  himself, 
in  which  he  was  encouraged  by  his  parents.  The  country 
clergy  at  that  time  generally  attempted  to  increase  their  in- 
come, by  keeping  private  schools  for  the  education  of  youth. 
When  he  was  about  five  years  of  age,  his  father  took  under  his 
care  a  lad,  seventeen  years  old,  to  instruct  and  qualify  him 
for  admission  as  a  member  of  Yale-College.  Trumbull  no- 
ticed the  tasks  first  imposed ;  which  were  to  learn  by  heart 
the  Latin  Accidence  and  Lilly's  Grammar,  and  to  construe  the 
Select  Colloquies  of  Corderius,  by  the  help  of  a  literal  transla- 
tion. Without  the  knowledge  of  any  person,  except  his 
mother,  he  began  in  this  way  the  study  of  the  Latin  language. 
After  a  few  weeks,  his  father  discovered  his  wishes,  and  find- 
ing that  by  the  aid  of  a  better  memory,  his  son  was  able  to  out- 
strip his  fellow-student,  encouraged  him  to  proceed.  At  the 
commencement  in  September  1757,  the  two  lads  were  present- 
ed at  college,  examined  by  the  tutors  and  admitted  as  mem- 
bers. Trumbull,  however,  on  account  of  his  extreme  youth 
at  that  time,  and  subsequent  ill  health,  was  not  sent  to  reside 
<it  college  till  the  year  1763.  He  spent  these  six  years  in  a 


11 

miscellaneous  course  of  study,  making  himself  master  of  the 
Greek  and  Latin  authors  usually  taught  in  that  seminary,  read- 
ing all  the  books  he  could  meet  with,  and  occasionally  at- 
tempting to  imitate,  both  in  prose  and  verse,  the  style  of  the 
best  English  writers,  whose  works  he  could  procure  in  his  na- 
tive village.  These  were  of  course  few.  The  Paradise  Lost, 
Thompson's  Seasons,  with  some  of  the  poems  of  Dryden  and 
Pope,  were  the  principal.  On  commencing  his  collegiate  life, 
he  found  little  regard  paid  to  English  composition,  or  the  ac- 
quirement of  a  correct  style.  The  Greek  and  Latin  books,  in 
the  study  of  which  only,  his  class  were  employed,  required  but 
a  small  portion  of  his  time.  By  the  advice  of  his  tutor,  he 
turned  his  thoughts  to  Algebra,  Geometry,  and  astronomical 
calculations,  which  were  then  newly  introduced  and  encourag- 
ed by  the  instructors.  He  chiefly  pursued  this  course  during 
the  three  first  years.  In  his  senior  year  he  began  to  resume 
his  former  attention  to  English  literature.  After  receiving 
the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts  in  1767,  he  remained  three 
years  longer  at  college  as  a  graduate.  Being  now  master  of 
his  own  time,  he  devoted  himself  chiefly  to  polite  letters ;  read- 
ing all  the  Greek  and  Latin  classics,  especially  the  poets  and 
orators,  and  studying  the  style  and  endeavoring  to  imitate  the 
manner  of  the  best  English  writers. 

His  acquaintance  now  commenced  with  Doctor  Dwight,  af- 
terwards President  of  the  university,  who  was  then  in  his  third 
year  in  college,  and  two  years  his  junior  in  age.  That  young 
gentleman  had  translated  two  of  the  finest  Odes  of  Horace,  in 
a  manner  so  elegant  and  poetical,  as  would  not  have  disgrac- 


12 

ed  his  more  mature  productions.  Happy  in  the  discovery  of 
a  rising  genius,  Mr.  Trumbull  immediately  sought  his  ac- 
quaintance, and  began  an  intimacy,  which  continued  during 
their  joint  residence  at  New-Haven,  and  a  friendship  termina- 
ted only  by  death. 

At  this  period  the  learned  languages,  mathematics,  logic, 
and  scholastic  theology,  were  alone  deemed  worthy  of  the  at- 
tention of  a  scholar.  They  were  dignified  with  the  name  of 
Solid  Learning.  English  poetry  and  the  belles-lettres  were 
called  folly,  nonsense  and  an  idle  waste  of  time.  The  two 
friends  were  obliged  to  stem  the  tide  of  general  ridicule  and 
censure.  This  situation  first  called  forth  the  satirical  talents 
of  Trumbull,  in  occasional  humorous  and  poetical  essays. 
Their  party  was  soon  increased  by  the  accession  of  several 
young  men  of  genius  ;  and  a  material  change  was  eventually 
effected  in  the  taste  and  pursuits  of  the  students. 

In  1769,  fliey  began  the  publication  of  a  series  of  essays  in 
the  manner  of  the  Spectator,  in  a  gazette  printed  in  Boston, 
and  continued  it  for  several  months.  They  next  commenced 
a  course  of  similar  essays  in  the  newspapers  printed  at  New- 
Haven,  which  they  increased  occasionally  to  more  than  forty 
numbers. 

Yale-College  was  founded  in  the  year  1700,  by  the  dona- 
tions of  a  number  of  the  Congregational  clergy  ;  and  a  Board 
of  Trustees  was  soon  after  incorporated  by  a  charter  from  the 
legislature.  It  was  designed  as  a  religious  institution  for  the 
education  of  youth  for  the  ministry.  In  1739,  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Clapp  was  appointed  President  and  continued  in  of- 


13 

lice  almost  thirty  years.  He  was  an  accurate  scholar  in 
the  learned  languages,  particularly  fond  of  the  Hebrew,  and 
uncommonly  skilled  in  geometrical  and  astronomical  calcula- 
tions. By  his  aid  and  influence,  some  of  the  students  were  in- 
duced to  turn  their  attention  to  these  subjects.  About  the 
year  1740,  a  few  members  of  the  higher  classes  had  attempt- 
ed the  cultivation  of  polite  literature,  and  produced  some  suc- 
cessful essays  in  English  poetry.  But  when  they  quitted  the 
college  they  left  no  successors  ;  and  the  poem  entitled,  Philo- 
sophic Solitude,  by  William  Livingston,  afterwards  Governor 
of  New-Jersey,  is  all  that  remains  to  the  public,  of  their  pro- 
ductions at  that  period.  In  1 763,  the  study  of  Algebra  was 
first  introduced  by  the  tutors,  and  made  a  part  of  the  collegi- 
ate exercises. 

But  Yale-College  had  now  become  unpopular  among  a 
large  proportion  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  colony.  The  trus- 
tees, relying  on  their  charter,  claimed  to  be  completely  inde- 
pendent of  the  government  5  and  denied  its  right  of  visitation, 
or  of  afty  interference  with  the  management  of  the  institution. 
They  were  charged  with  illiberality  towards  all  denominations 
of  Christians  but  their  own.  Many  civilians  encouraged  the 
students  in  opposition  to  their  authority.  A  petition  was 
drawn  and  signed  by  almost  every  member  of  the  higher  class- 
es, addressed  to  the  trustees,  containing  a  variety  of  charges 
against  their  instructors,  and  praying  for  their  dismissal  from 
office.  All  authority  and  subordination  were  now  at  an  end  ; 
the  tutors  abdicated,  and  the  scholars  were  dispersed  dur- 
ing the  summer  of  the  year  1766.  After  holding  the  com- 


14 

mencement  in  September,  the  President  resigned  his  ol- 
fice.  The  professor  of  theology  was  appointed  president 
pro  tempore.  Three  very  respectable  gentlemen  and  accom- 
plished scholars  were  chosen  to  the  tutorship  ;  one  of  whom 
was  Mr.  Mitchell,  since  Chief  Justice  of  the  State.  After  the 
vacation  the  students  were  assembled,  and  order  was  again 
established.  The  management  of  the  institution  fell  almost 
entirely  into  the  hands  of  the  tutors.  They  encouraged  the 
study  of  the  English  grammar  and  language,  and  excited  some 
attention  to  composition  and  oratory.  But  the  state  of  the 
college  precluded  any  great  or  immediate  innovation  in  the 
usual  course  of  instruction. 

In  1769,  Mr.  Joseph  Howe,  afterwards  pastor  of  a  church 
in  Boston,  was  appointed  one  of  the  tutors.  He  was  not  only 
a  good  classical  scholar,  but  possessed  an  elegant  taste  and 
considerable  poetical  talents.  Besides  the  usual  collegiate  stu- 
dies, he  employed  the  class  under  his  immediate  care  in  Eng- 
lish compositions,  instructed  them  in  the  beauties  of  style,  and 
exercised  them  frequently  in  public  declamation.  A  relish 
for  polite  literature  became  general  among  the  students. 

In  September  1771,  all  the  tutors,  except  Mr.  Howe,  re- 
signed the  office.  Messrs.  Trumbull  and  Dwight  were  chosen 
to  supply  the  vacancies.  From  this  period,  every  effort  was 
unanimously  made,  to  cultivate  in  that  seminary,  a  correct 
taste  in  style  and  elocution. 

In  1772,  Trumbull  published  the  first  part  of  a  poem, 
which  he  entitled,  the  Progress  of  Dulness,  designed  to  ex- 
pose the  absurd  methods  of  education,  which  then  prevailed  : 


15 

he  added  a  Second  and  third  part  in  the  course  of  the  next 
year.  Dwight  published  a  poem  entitled,  America,  written 
in  the  manner  of  Pope's  Windsor  Forest.  He  had  some  time- 
before  begun  his  greatest  poetical  work,  The  Conquest  of  Ca- 
naan ;  and  now  completed  his  first  sketch  in  five  books.  By 
the  advice  of  Mr.  Howe,  he  added  the  Vision  of  Futurity, 
which  now  makes  the  tenth  book,  and  upon  the  suggestion  of 
Mr.  Trumbull,  he  inserted  the  night-scene  of  the  battle,  illu- 
minated by  the  flames  of  the  burning  city  of  Ai.  The  whole 
was  the  work  of  Dwight ;  those  gentlemen  assisted  him,  only 
by  their  criticism  and  advice.  After  their  dispersion  he  con- 
siderably altered  and  enlarged  the  poem,  and  published  it  in 
Us  present  form,  in  eleven  books. 

During  their  residence  at  the  university,  several  young  gen- 
tlemen were  associated  in  their  literary  and  poetical  society, 
particularly  Messrs.  David  Humphreys  and  Joel  Barlow. 

Trumbull,  while  he  held  the  office  of  tutor,  paid  as  much  at- 
tention, as  his  other  avocations  would  admit,  to  the  study  of 
Law,  which  he  had  now  selected  as  his  future  profession.  In 
November  1773,  he  was  admitted  as  a  practising  attorney  at 
the  bar  in  Connecticut :  but  immediately  went  to  Boston,  and 
entered  as  a  student  in  the  office  of  John  Adams,  Esq.  since 
President  of  the  United  States  ;  and  took  lodgings  with  Thom- 
as Gushing,  Esq.  then  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representatives, 
afterwards  a  delegate  to  the  first  Congress,  and  Lieutenant 
Governor  of  the  State  of  Massachusetts.  He  was  now  placed 
in  the  centre  of  American  politics.  The  contest  between 
Great-Britain  and  the  Colonies  approached  rapidly  towards  s. 


16 

crisis.  The  violence  of  party  was  extreme.  The  Governor. 
Council,  Judges,  and  all  the  legal  authority  under  the  crown, 
employed  their  utmost  efforts  to  establish  the  universal  supre- 
macy, and  enforce  the  oppressive  acts,  of  the  English  parlia- 
ment. The  leaders  of  the  popular  party  had  the  complete 
control  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  directed  every 
movement  of  the  populace.  By  means  of  an  extensive  cor- 
respondence, with  men  of  the  best  information  at  the  British 
and  French  courts,  they  were  fully  convinced,  at  that  early 
period  that  nothing,  short  of  warlike  resistance,  could  success- 
fully oppose  the  claims  of  Great-Britain  to  unlimited  authori- 
ty ;  and  that,  without  eventually  declaring  independence  and 
assuming  the  rights  of  sovereignty  as  a  nation,  no  important 
assistance  could  be  obtained  from  France,  Spain  or  any  Euro- 
pean power.  Still  the  people  were  impressed  with  an  awful 
idea  of  the  omnipotence  of  Britain,  and  shuddered  at  the 
thought  of  attempting  a  separation.  They  placed  their  hopes 
on  the  effect  of  their  petitions  to  the  king,  their  agreements 
to  stop  all  commercial  intercourse,  and  the  exertions  of  their 
numerous  friends  in  the  British  nation  and  parliament.  To 
cement  the  union  of  all  the  colonies,  to  counteract  the  fears  of 
the  people  and  encourage  their  confidence  in  their  own 
strength  and  resources,  to  lead  them  into  measures  decisive  in 
their  consequences,  and  to  prepare  their  minds  for  resistance 
by  arms,  was  the  only  policy  which  the  leaders  could,  at  that 
time,  pursue.  Trumbull  entered  into  their  sentiments,  with 
all  the  ardor  in  favor  of  liberty,  which  characterizes  a  youth- 
ful politician.  Though  he  prosecuted  the  study  of  law  with 


17 

the  utmost  attention,  he  frequently  employed  his  leisure  houre 
in  writing  essays  on  political  subjects,  in  the  public  gazettes; 
which  had  perhaps  a  greater  effect  from  the  novelty  of  his 
manner,  and  the  caution  he  used  to  prevent  any  discovery  of 
the  real  author.  Nor  did  he  neglect  occasionally  to  cultivate 
the  muse  ;  and  just  before  he  left  Boston,  anonymously  pub- 
lished his  Elegy  on  the  Times,  which  is  contained  in  the  pre- 
sent collection.  Every  thing  then  verging  towards  hostility 
in  Massachusetts,  the  session  of  the  courts  being  suspended, 
and  Mr.  Adams  absent  at  the  Congress  in  Philadelphia,  he 
returned  to  New-Haven,  and  successfully  commenced  prac- 
tice at  the  bar,  in  November  1774. 

The  year  ITTS^was  a  period  of  terror  and  dismay.  The 
war  had  commenced  by  the  battle  at  Lexington.  Uncondi- 
tional submission,  or  a  total  rejection  of  the  authority  of  the 
crown,  presented  the  only  alternative.  Every  exertion  wa<; 
made  by  the  friends  of  American  liberty,  to  inspire  confidence 
in  our  cause,  to  crush  the  efforts  of  the  Tory  party  and  to 
prepare  the  public  mind  for  the  declaration  of  independence. 
With  these  views,  at  the  solicitation  of  some  of  his  friends  in 
Congress,  Trumbull  wrote  the  first  part  of  the  poem  of  M'Fin- 
gal,  which  they  immediately  procured  to  be  published  at  Phi- 
ladelphia, where  Congress  was  then  assembled.  He  had  also 
formed  the  plan  of  the  work,  sketched  some  of  the  scenes  of 
the  third  Canto  and  written  the  beginning  of  the  fourth,  with 
the  commencement  of  the  Vision,  at  which  point,  not  being 
gifted  with  the  prophetical  powers  of  his  hero,  he  was  obliged 
to  leave  it  then  unfinished. 


18 

In  November  1776,  he  married  Miss  Sarah  Hubbard, 
daughter  of  Colonel  Leverett  Hubbard  of  New-Haven.  That 
town  being  exposed  to  invasion,  and  all  business  rapidly  de- 
clining, he  returned  in  May  1777  to  his  native  place,  where 
he  remained  four  succeeding  years.  Too  constant  applica- 
tion to  his  studies,  and  the  fatigue  of  attending  courts  at  a  dis- 
tance, in  all  seasons,  and  especially  during  the  severe  winter 
of  1780,  occasioned  the  loss  of  his  health  by  a  nervous  de- 
cline. With  the  hope  of  recovery,  by  a  change  of  situation 
to  a  place  more  advantageous  for  his  professional  business, 
and  more  agreeable  by  its  literary  society,  he  removed,  in 
June  1781,  with  his  family,  to  Hartford,  where  he  has  ever 
since  resided. 

A  friendly  club  was  soon  after  established,  who  assembled 
once  a  week  for  the  discussion  of  questions  on  proposed  sub- 
jects, legal,  philosophical  and  political.  Trumbull,  though 
fully  employed  in  the  duties  of  his  profession,  was  one  of  its 
most  active  members.  The  fate  of  the  revolutionary  war  be- 
ing now  eventually  decided  by  the  capture  of  Lord  Cornwallis 
and  his  army,  the  friends  of  the  author  urged  him  to  complete 
the  poem  of  M'Fingal ;  and  having  obtained  his  promise,  im- 
mediately put  into  circulation  a  subscription  for  the  work. 
Thus  situated,  he  employed  his  leisure  hours  in  revising  the 
first  half  of  the  poern,  which  he  divided  into  two  cantos,  and 
in  composing  the  last.  The  whole  was  finished,  and  the  first 
edition  published  at  Hartford,  before  the  close  of  the  year 
1782.  As  no  author,  at  that  period,  was  entitled  by  law  to 
the  copyright  of  his  productions,  the  work  soon  became  the 


19 

prey  of  every  bookseller  and  printer,  who  chose  to  appropri- 
ate it  to  his  own  benefit.  Among  more  than  thirty  different 
impressions,  one  only,  at  any  subsequent  time,  was  published 
with  the  permission,  or  even  the  knowledge  of  the  writer ; 
and  the  poem  remained  the  property  of  newsmongers,  hawk- 
ers, pedlars  and  petty  chapmen. 

After  the  peace  in  1783,  the  United  States  were  left  without 
any  efficient  government,  and  connected  only  by  the  Articles 
of  Confederation.  Each  State  was  an  independent  sovereign- 
ty and  pursued  its  own  separate  plans  of  policy.  The  officers 
of  the  revolutionary  army  were  every  where  unpopular,  on 
account  of  the  extra  pay  for  five  years,  granted  them  by  Con- 
gress in  lieu  of  half  pay  for  life,  which  was  first  stipulated. 
Their  remaining  in  combination  by  forming  the  society  of  the 
Cincinnati  was  also  a  subject  of  general  jealousy  and  clamour. 
A  large  addition  to  the  national  debt  arose  from  the  unpaid 
arrears  of  the  army,  and  the  sums  promised  to  the  soldiers,  as 
a  compensation  for  payments  in  depreciated  bills,  and  as  a 
douceur,  to  persuade  them  to  retire  peaceably  to  their  homes, 
on  being  disbanded  at  the  close  of  the  war.  The  country  was 
greatly  impoverished  ;  and  almost  every  individual  believed, 
that  he  had  already  paid  and  suffered  more  than  his  just  pro- 
portion of  the  public  expense. 

In  Connecticut,  mobs  were  raised  to  prevent  the  officers 
from  receiving  their  certificates  for  the  five  years'  pay.  A  self- 
constituted  Convention  assembled  to  second  the  views  of  the 
populace,  and  for  that  purpose,  to  effect  a  revolution  in  the 
State,  and  fill  every  office  with  the  leaders  of  disorganization. 


20 

Had  not  the  insurrection  of  Shays,  in  Massachusetts,  been 
speedily  crushed,  the  eastern  States  would  have  become  a 
scene  of  anarchy  and  confusion.  A  considerable  proportion 
of  the  people  of  Connecticut  were  prepared  to  join  in  a  gene- 
ral opposition  to  government,  and  involve  the  country  in  the 
horrors  of  civil  war.  The  friends  of  order,  justice  and  regu- 
lar authority,  endeavoured  to  counteract  this  spirit  by  every 
effort  in  their  power — by  remonstrance,  argument,  ridicule 
and  satire.  Among  other  occasional  productions,  a  course  of 
essays  was  published  under  the  signature  of  Lycurgus,  in  a 
strain  of  ironical  humour,  exposing  to  contempt  the  principles 
and  views  of  the  Jacobinical  party. 

The  public  in  time  became  sensible  of  the  want  of  a  gene- 
ral and  efficient  government ;  and  the  contest  ended  happily 
in  the  adoption  of  the  federal  constitution.  During  most  of 
this  period,  several  of  the  principal  literary  characters  of  the 
State  were  resident  in  Hartford,  and  gave  to  the  friends  of  or- 
der whatever  assistance  could  be  afforded  by  their  publica- 
tions. The  principal  work  they  produced  was  a  set  of  essays, 
entitled  American  Antiquities,  first  printed  in  the  gazettes  in 
Hartford  and  New-Haven,  and  reprinted  in  other  newspapers, 
in  almost  every  part  of  the  United  States.  At  this  time  pub- 
lic curiosity  had  been  awakened  by  the  discovery  of  ancient 
Indian  fortifications,  with  other  relics,  which  were  considered 
as  proofs,  that  this  country  had  once  been  inhabited  by  a  peo- 
ple highly  advanced  in  the  arts  of  civilized  life.  The  story 
of  the  emigration  of  Madoc,  with  a  body  of  Britons  and 
Welch,  about  the  year  800,  and  of  an  existing  tribe  of  their  de- 


21 

seendants  in  the  interior  part  of  the  continent,  was  revived  and 
circulated.  These  writers  assumed  the  fiction,  that  in  digging 
among  the  ruins  of  one  of  those  forts,  an  ancient  heroic  poem 
in  the  English  language  was  found.  The  essays  consisted  of 
supposed  extracts  from  that  poem,  (which  they  styled,  The 
Anarchiad,)  accompanied  with  critical  remarks  in  prose. 
Colonel  Humphreys,  who  had  seen  in  England  a  similar 
work,  called  the  Rolliad,  ascribed  to  Fox,  Sheridan  and  their 
associates,  was  the  first  proposer  of  the  design.  Most  of  the 
essays  were  written  in  concert.  The  writers  were  Hum- 
phreys, Barlow,  Doctor  Lemuel  Hopkins,  and  our  author. 
The  publications  of  these  gentlemen  were  supposed,  at  the 
time,  to  have  had  considerable  influence  on  the  public  taste 
and  opinions  ;  and  by  the  boldness  of  their  satire,  to  have 
checked  and  intimidated  the  leaders  of  disorganization  and  in- 
fidel philosophy. 

After  the  adoption  of  the  federal  constitution,  Trumbull  was 
first  called  forth  to  act  in  a  public  capacity.  In  1789,  he  was 
appointed  Attorney  to  the  State  for  the  county  of  Hartford. 
In  May  1792,  he  was  representative  of  the  town  of  Hartford 
in  the  State  legislature,  where  he  took  an  active  and  influen- 
cial  part  in  their  debates  and  deliberations;  particularly  in 
obtaining  an  enlargement  of  the  funds,  and  an  alteration  of  the 
charter  of  Yale-College.  But  the  increasing  burthen  of  his 
employments,  public  and  professional,  again  impaired  his 
health,  and  at  length  reduced  him  to  the  lowest  stages  of  nerv- 
ous debility.  He  spent  his  summers,  for  two  or  three  succes- 
-IVP  venrs,  in  taking  long  journies  and  visiting  the  most  noted 


mineral  springs,  in  quest  of  health,  but  in  vain.  In  1 795,  he 
resigned  his  office  of  State's  Attorney,  and  declined  all  public 
business.  In  November  1798,  he  experienced  a  severe  fit  of 
sickness,  from  which,  contrary  to  expectation,  he  escaped  with 
life,  and  which  appeared  to  form  the  crisis  of  his  nervous  dis- 
orders. His  convalescence,  though  slow,  was  favorably  pro- 
gressive ;  and  as,  during  his  long  confinement,  he  never  relin- 
quished his  habits  of  reading,  nor  his  attention  to  public  af- 
fairs, he  was  enabled,  on  his  return  to  society,  to  resume  his 
former  rank,  in  professional  business,  and  official  employ- 
ments. In  May  1800,  he  was  again  a  member  of  the  legis- 
lature. In  1801,  he  was  appointed  a  Judge  of  the  Superior 
Court  of  the  State  of  Connecticut.  From  this  period  he  de- 
clined any  interference  in  the  politics  of  the  state,  and  applied 
himself  exclusively  to  the  duties  of  his  office — being  of  opin- 
ion, that  the  character  of  a  partizan  and  political  writer  was 
inconsistent  with  the  station  of  a  judge  and  destructive  of  the 
confidence  of  suitors  in  the  impartiality  of  judiciary  decisions. 
In  1808,  he  received  from  the  legislature  the  additional  ap- 
pointment of  a  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Errors.  He 
was  happy  in  the  society  of  his  brethren  on  the  bench  ;  and 
the  Courts  of  the  State  were  at  no  period  more  respectable  for 
legal  science,  or  more  respected  for  the  justice  and  integrity 
of  their  adjudications. 

To  these  offices  he  was  annually  appointed  by  the  legisla- 
ture, till  their  session  in  May  1819,  when  *  *  *  *  x 
*  *  *  *  *  *  Desunt  nonnulla.  ****** 


CONTENTS 

TO  VOL.  I. 

Page. 

,  Canto     1 3 

M'FINGAL,  Canto   II 42 

M'FINGAL,  Canto  III 85 

M'FINGAL,  Canto  IV 121 


A  MODERN  EPIC  POEM. 


M'FINGAL. 

CANTO  I. 

THE  TOWN-MEETING,  A.  M. 


WHEN  Yankies,*  skill'd  in  martial  rule, 
First f  put  the  British  troops  to  school ; 
Instructed  them  in  warlike  trade, 
And  new  manoeuvres  of  parade, 
The  true  war-dance  of  Yankee  reels, 
And  manual  exercise  of  heels  ; 
Made  them  give  up,  like  saints  complete, 
The  arm  of  flesh,  and  trust  the  feet, 


The  Notes  marked,  London  Editor,  are  copied  from  the  fifth 
English  edition,  printed  at  London  in  the  year  1 792. 


*  Yankies, — a  term  formerly  of  derision,  but  now  merely 
of  distinction,  given  to  the  people  of  the  four  eastern  states. 
Loud.  Edit. 

f  At  the  battle  of  Lexington.  The  reader  will  easily  re- 
collect how  often  these  salutary  lessons  have  been  since  re- 
peated— from  the  action  at  Bunk«r-hi)l  to  the  battle  of  New- 
Orleans  inclusive. 


4  M'FINGAL. 

And  work,  like  Christians  unassembling, 
Salvation  out,  by  fear  and  trembling ; 
Taught  Percy  fashionable  races, 
And  modern  modes  of  Chevy-Chases  :* 
From  Boston,  in  his  best  array, 
Great  'Squire  M'FINGAL  took  his  way, 
And  graced  with  ensigns  of  renown, 
Steer'd  homeward  to  his  native  town. 

His  high  descent  our  heralds  trace 
From  Ossian'sf  famed  Fingalian  race  : 
For  though  their  name  some  part  may  lack, 
Old  Fingal  spelt  it  with  a  MAC  ; 
Which  great  M'Pherson,  with  submission, 
We  hope  will  add  the  next  edition. 

His  fathers  flourish'd  in  the  Highlands 
Of  Scotia's  fog-benighted  islands ; 

*  Lord  Percy  commanded  the  party,  that  was  first  opposed 
to  the  Americans  at  Lexington.  This  allusion  to  the  family 
renown  of  Chevy-Chase  arose  from  the  precipitate  manner  of 
his  Lordship's  quitting  the  field  of  battle,  and  returning  to 
Boston.  Lond.  Edit. 

f  See  Fingal,  an  ancient  Epic  Poem,  published  as  the  work 
of  Ossian,  a  Caledonian  Bard  of  the  third  century,  by  James 
M'Pherson.  The  complete  name  of  Ossian,  according  to  the 
Scottish  nomenclature^  will  be  Ossian  M'Fingal. 


M'FINGAL.  5 

Whence  gain'd  our  'Squire  two  gifts  by  right, 
Rebellion,  and  the  Second-sight. 
Of  these,  the  first,  in  ancient  days, 
Had  gain'd  the  noblest  palm  of  praise, 
'Gainst  kings  stood  forth  and  many  a  crown'd 
With  terror  of  its  might  confounded ;          [head 
Till  rose  a  king  with  potent  charm 
His  foes  by  meekness  to  disarm, 
Whom  every  Scot  and  Jacobite 
Strait  fell  in  love  with  at  first  sight ; 
Whose  gracious  speech  with  aid  of  pensions, 
Hush'd  down  all  murmurs  of  dissensions, 
And  with  the  sound  of  potent  metal 
Brought  all  their  buzzing  swarms  to  settle  : 
Who  rain'd  his  ministerial  manna, 
Till  loud  Sedition  sung  hosanna  ; 
The  grave  Lords-Bishops  and  the  Kirk 
United  in  the  public  work  ; 
Rebellion,  from  the  northern  regions, 
With  Bute  and  Mansfield  swore  allegiance  ; 
All  hands  combin'd  to  raze,  as  nuisance, 
Of  church  and  state  the  Constitutions, 
Pull  down  the  empire,  on  whose  ruins 
They  meant  to  edify  their  new  ones ; 


b  ATFINGAL. 

Enslave  th?  Amer'can  wildernesses, 
And  rend  the  provinces  in  pieces. 
With  these  our  'Squire,  among  the  valiant'st, 
Employ'd  his  time,  and  tools  and  talents, 
And  found  this  new  rebellion  pleasing 
As  his  old  king-destroying  treason. 
Nor  less  avail'd  his  optic  sleight, 
And  Scottish  gift  of  second-sight.* 
No  ancient  sybil,  famed  in  rhyme, 
Saw  deeper  in  the  womb  of  time  ; 
No  block  in  old  Dodona's  grove 
Could  ever  more  orac'lar  prove. 
Nor  only  saw  he  all  that  could  be, 
But  much  that  never  was,  nor  would  be  ; 
Whereby  all  prophets  far  outwent  he, 
Though  former  days  produced  a  plenty : 
For  any  man  with  half  an  eye 
What  stands  before  him  can  espy  ; 
But  optics  sharp  it  needs,  I  ween, 
To  see  what  is  not  to  be  seen. 


*  They,  who  wish  to  understand  the  nature,  and  modus 
operandi,  of  the  Highland  vision  by  second-sight,  may  consult 
the  profound  Johnson,  in  his  Tour  to  the  Hebrides. 


M'FINGAL.  7 

• 

As  in  the  days  of  ancient  fame, 
Prophets  and  poets  were  the  same, 
And  all  the  praise  that  poets  gain 
Is  for  the  tales  they  forge  and  feign  : 
So  gain'd  our  'Squire  his  fame  by  seeing 
Such  things,  as  never  would  have  being ; 
Whence  he  for  oracles  was  grown 
The  very  tripod*  of  his  town. 
Gazettes  no  sooner  rose  a  lie  in, 
But  strait  he  fell  to  prophesying  ; 
Made  dreadful  slaughter  in  his  course, 
O'erthrew  provincials,  foot  and  horse, 
Brought  armies  o'er,  by  sudden  pressings, 
Of  Hanoverians,  Swiss  and  Hessians, 
Feasted  with  blood  his  Scottish  clan, 
And  hang'd  all  rebels  to  a  man, 
Divided  their  estates  and  pelf, 
And  took  a  goodly  share  himself. 
All  this  with  spirit  energetic, 
He  did  by  second-sight  prophetic. 

Thus  stored  with  intellectual  riches, 
Skill'd  was  our  'Squire  in  making  speeches ; 

*  The  tripod  was  a  sacred  three-legged  stool,  from  which 
the  ancient  priests  tittered  their  oracles. 


MFINGAL. 

Where  strength  of  brains  united  centers 
With  strength  of  lungs  surpassing  Stentor's.* 
But  as  some  muskets  so  contrive  it, 
As  oft  to  miss  the  mark  they  drive  at, 
And  though  well  aim'd  at  duck  or  plover, 
Bear  wide,  and  kick  their  owners  over  : 
So  fared  our  'Squire,  whose  reas'ning  toil 
Would  often  on  himself  recoil, 
And  so  much  injured  more  his  side, 
The  stronger  arguments  he  applied  ; 
As  old  war-elephants,  dismay'd, 
Trod  down  the  troops  they  came  to  aid, 
And  hurt  their  own  side  more  in  battle, 
Than  less  and  ordinary  cattle. 
Yet  at  Town-meetings  every  chief 
Pinn'd  faith  on  great  M'FINGAL'S  sleeve  ; 
Which  when  he  lifted,  all  by  rote 
Raised  sympathetic  hands  to  vote. 

The  Town,  our  hero's  scene  of  action, 
Had  long  been  torn  by  feuds  of  faction, 
And  as  each  party's  strength  prevails, 
It  turn'd  up  different,  heads  or  tails  ; 

*  Stentor,  the  loud-roicM  herald  in  Homer. 


9 

With  constant  rattling,  in  a  trice, 
Show'cl  various  sides,  as  oft  as  dice. 
As  that  famed  weaver,  wife  t'  Ulysses,* 
By  night  her  day's-work  pick'd  in  pieces, 
And  though  she  stoutly  did  bestir  her, 
Its  finishing  was  ne'er  the  nearer : 
So  did  this  town  with  ardent  zeal 
Weave  cobwebs  for  the  public  weal, 
Which  when  completed,  or  before, 
A  second  vote  in  pieces  tore. 
They  met,  made  speeches  full  long-winded, 
Resolv'd,  protested  and  rescinded  ; 
Addresses  sign'd;  then  chose  committees 
To  stop  all  drinking  of  Bohea  teas  ;f 
With  winds  of  doctrine  veer'd  about, 
And  turn'd  all  whig  committees  out. 

*  Homer's  Odyssey. 

f  One  of  the  subjects  of  dispute,  which  brought  on  the  war, 
was  a  tax  upon  tea,  on  its  importation  into  the  colonies.  And 
therefore  one  of  the  weapons  of  opposition  was  an  universal 
agreement  by  the  people,  not  to  drink  any  tea,  till  the  tax  was 
taken  off.  The  committees  referred  to,  were  called  Commit- 
tees of  Correspondence  :  part  of  their  business  was  to  enforce 
the  execution  of  the  voluntary  regulations  made  by  the  peo- 
ple in  the  several  towns. 

2 


10  M'FINGAL. 

Meanwhile  our  Hero,  as  their  head, 

In  pomp  the  tory  faction  led, 

Still  following,  as  the  'Squire  should  please, 

Successive  on,  like  files  of  geese. 

And  now  the  town  was  summon'd,  greeting, 
To  grand  parading  of  Town-meeting ; 
A  show,  that  strangers  might  appal, 
As  Rome's  grave  senate  did  the  Gaul. 
High  o'er  the  rout,  on  pulpit  stairs,* 
Mid  den  of  thieves  in  house  of  prayers, 
(That  house,  which  loth  a  rule  to  break 
Serv'd  heaven,  but  one  day  in  the  week, 
Open  the  rest  for  all  supplies 
Of  news,  and  politics,  and  lies ;) 
Stood  forth  the  Constable  ;  and  bore 
His  staff,  like  Merc'ry's  wand  of  yore, 
Waved  potent  round,  the  peace  to  keep, 
As  that  laid  dead  men's  souls  to  sleep. 
Above  and  near  th'  hermetic  staff, 
The  Moderator's*  upper  half 

*  In  country  towns  in  New-England,  the  town-meeting  is 
generally  held  in  the  church,  or  meeting-house. 

f  Moderator  is  the  name  given  to  the  chairman  or  speaker 
of  a  town-meeting.  He  is  here  seated  in  the  pulpit. 


M^FINGAL.  1  1 

In  grandeur  o'er  the  cushion  bow'd, 
Like  Sol  half  seen  behind  a  cloud. 
Beneath  stood  voters  of  all  colours, 
Whigs,  Tories,  orators  and  brawlers ; 
With  every  tongue  in  either  faction 
Prepared  like  minute-men*  for  action  ; 
Where  truth  and  falsehood,  wrong  and  right. 
Drew  all  their  legions  forth  to  fight. 
With  equal  uproar  scarcely  rave 
Opposing  winds  in  ^Eolus'  cave ; 
Such  dialogues  with  earnest  face 
Held  never  Balaam  with  his  ass. 

With  daring  zeal  and  courage  blest, 
Honorius  first  the  crowd  addres'd. 
When  now  our  'Squire,  returning  late, 
Arrived  to  aid  the  grand  debate ; 
With  strange,  sour  faces  sate  him  down, 
While  thus  the  orator  went  on. 
— "  For  ages  blest  thus  Britain  rose, 
The  terror  of  encircling  foes  ; 

*  Minute-men  were  that  part  of  the  militia  of  our  country, 
who  being  drafted,  and  enrolled  by  themselves,  were  prepared 
to  march  at  a  minute's  warning  wherever  the  public  safety  re- 
quired. 


12  M'FINGAL. 

Her  heroes  ruled  the  bloody  plain, 
Her  conq'ring  standard  awed  the  main. 
The  different  palms  her  triumph  grace 
Of  arms  in  war,  of  arts  in  peace. 
Unharrass'd  by  maternal  care, 
Each  rising  province  flourish'd  fair ; 
Whose  various  wealth,  with  liberal  hand, 
By  far  o'erpaid  the  parent  land.* 
But  though  so  bright  her  sun  might  shine, 
'Twas  quickly  hasting  to  decline, 
With  feeble  ray,  too  weak  t'  assuage 
The  damps,  that  chill  the  eve  of  age. 

"  For  states,  like  men,  are  doom'd  as  well 
Th'  infirmities  of  age  to  feel,f 
And  from  their  different  forms  of  empire, 
Are  seiz'd  with  every  deep  distemper. 
Some  states  high  fevers  have  made  head  in, 
Which  nought  could  cure  but  copious  bleeding', 


*  Before  the  revolution,  the  colonies  ever  stiled  Britain  their 
mother-country,  themselves  her  children,  and  England  their 
home. 

f  This  is  asserted  by  all  the  grave  statesmen,  who  treat  on 
the  disorders  of  that  noted  allegorical  personage,  the  Body 
Politic. 


M'FINGAL.  13 

While  others  have  grown  dull  and  dozy,. 

Or  fix'd  in  helpless  idiocy  ; 

Or  turn'd  demoniacs  to  belabour 

Each  peaceful  habitant  and  neighbour ; 

Or  vex'd  with  hypochondriac  fits, 

Have  broke  their  strength,  and  lost  their  wits. 

Thus  now  while  hoary  years  prevail, 

Good  mother  Britain  seem'd  to  fail ; 

Her  back  bent,  crippled  with  the  weight 

Of  age,  and  debts,  and  cares  of  state. 

For  debts  she  owed,  and  those  so  large, 

As  twice  her  wealth  could  ne'er  discharge, 

And  now  'twas  thought,  so  high  they'd  grown, 

She'd  come  upon  the  parish  soon. 

Her  arms,  of  nations  once  the  dread, 

She  scarce  could  lift  above  her  head  ; 

Her  deafen'd  ears,  'twas  all  their  hope, 

The  final  trump  perhaps  might  ope  ; 

So  long  they'd  been,  in  stupid  mood, 

Shut  to  the  hearing  of  all  good. 

Grim  death  had  put  her  in  his  scroll 

Down  on  the  execution-roll ; 

And  Gallic  crows,  as  she  grew  weaker, 

Began  to  whet  their  beaks  to  pick  her. 


H  M'FINGAL. 

"  Aijd  now  her  powers  decaying  fast,, 
Her  grand  climact'ric  had  she  pass'd, 
And  just  like  all  old  women  else, 
Fell  in  the  vapors  much  by  spells. 
Strange  whimsies  on  her  fancy  struck, 
And  gave  her  brain  a  dismal  shock  ; 
Her  memory  fails,  her  judgment  ends ; 
She  quite  forgot  her  nearest  friends, 
Lost  all  her  former  sense  and  knowledge, 
And  fitted  fast  for  Bedlam-college. 
Of  all  the  powers  she  once  retain'd, 
Conceit  and  pride  alone  remain'd. 
As  Eve,  when  falling,  was  so  modest 
To  fancy  she  should  grow  a  goddess  ;* 
As  madmen,  straw  who  long  have  slept  on. 
Style  themselves  Jupiter  and  Neptune  : 
So  Britain  in  her  airs  so  flighty, 
Now  took  a  whim  to  be  Almighty  ;f 
Urg'd  on  to  desperate  heights  of  frenzy, 
Affirm'd  her  own  Omnipotency  ; 

*  So  says  Milton. 

•j-  See  the  Act  declaring  her  right  to  bind  the  colonies  in  all 
cases  whatsoever.  See  also  Blackstone's  remarks,  in  his  Com- 
mentaries, on  the  Omnipotence  of  the  British  Parliament. 


M'FINGAL.  15 

Would  rather  ruin  all  her  race, 
Than  yield  supremacy,  an  ace  ; 
Assumed  all  rights  divine,  as  grown 
The  church's  head,  like  good  Pope  Joan  ;* 
Swore  all  the  world  should  bow  and  skip, 
At  her  almighty  goodyship  ; 
Anathematized  each  unbeliever, 
And  vow'd  to  live  and  rule  for  ever. 
Her  servants  humour'd  every  whim, 
And  own'd  at  once  her  power  supreme  ; 
Her  follies  nursed  in  all  their  stages, 
For  sake  of  liveries  and  wages ; 
In  Stephen's  Chapelf  then  in  state  too 
Set  up  her  golden  calf  to  pray  to ; 
Proclaim'd  its  power  and  right  divine, 
And  call'd  for  worship  at  its  shrine  ; 


*  Whether  there  actually  was  a  woman,  who  assumed  the 
dress  of  a  monk,  and  was  finally  elected  Pope,  has  occasion- 
ed violent  disputes  among  the  ecclesiastical  historians.  To 
them  we  must  leave  it — since  the  world  have  not  the  benefit, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  Chevalier  D'Eon,  of  the  report  of  any 
legal  trial  for  ascertaining  her  sex,  before  any  Lord  Mansfield 
of  that  age. 

f  The  parliament-house  is  called  St.  Stephen's  Chapel. 


16  M'FINGAL. 

And  for  poor  heretics  to  burn  us, 

Bade  North*  prepare  his  fiery  furnace  ; 

Struck  bargains  with  the  Romish  churches, 

Infallibility  to  purchase ; 

Set  wide  for  Popery  the  door,f 

Made  friends  with  Babel's  scarlet  whore, 

Till  both  the  matrons  joiti'd  in  clan ; 

No  sisters  made  a  better  span. 

"  What  wonder  then,  ere  this  was  over, 
That  she  should  make  her  children  suffer  ? 
She  first  without  pretence  or  reason, 
Claim'd  right  whate'er  we  had  to  seize  on  ; 
And  with  determin'd  resolution 
To  put  her  claims  in  execution, 
Sent  fire  and  sword,  and  call'd  it  Lenity ; 
Starv'd  us,  and  christen'd  it  Humanity. 
For  she,  her  case  grown  desperater, 
Mistook  the  plainest  things  in  nature  ; 
Had  lost  all  use  of  eyes  or  wits, 
Took  slavery  for  the  bill  of  rights  ; 


*  Her  Prime  Minister  of  State  at  that  period, 
f  Alluding  to  the  Act  of  parliament,  establishing  the  Papal 
worship  and  religion  in  Canada. 


M'FINGAL.  17 

Trembled  at  whigs  and  deem'd  them  foes, 
And  stopp'd  at  loyalty  her  nose ; 
Styled  her  own  children,  brats  and  catififs, 
And  knew  us  not  from  th'  Indian  natives. 

"  What  though  with  supplicating  prayer, 
We  begg'd  our  lives  and  goods  she'd  spare ; 
Not  vainer  vows  with  sillier  call 
Elijah's  prophets  raised  to  Baal ; 
A  worshipp'd  stock  of  god  or  goddess 
Had  better  heard  and  understood  us. 
So  once  Egyptians  at  the  Nile 
Ador'd  their  guardian  crocodile, 
Who  heard  them  first  with  kindest  ear, 
And  ate  them  to  reward  their  prayer : 
And  could  he  talk,  as  kings  can  do, 
Had  made  as  gracious  speeches  too. 

"  Thus,  spite  of  prayers,  her  schemes  pursu- 
She  still  went  on  to  work  our  ruin  ;  [ 

Annull'd  our  charters  of  releases, 
And  tore  our  title-deeds  in  pieces  ; 
Then  sign'd  her  warrants  of  ejection, 
And  gallows  rais'd  to  stretch  our  necks  on : 
And  on  these  errands  sent  in  rage 
Her  bailiff,  and  her  hangman,  Gage  ; 


18  M'FINGAL. 

And  at  his  heels,  like  dogs  to  bait  us, 
Dispatch'd  her  Posse  Comitatus. 

"  No  state  e'er  chose  a  fitter  person 
To  carry  such  a  silly  farce  on. 
As  heathen  gods  in  ancient  days 
Receiv'd  at  second  hand  their  praise, 
Stood  imaged  forth  in  stones  and  stocksr 
And  deified  in  barber's  blocks : 
So  Gage*  was  chose  to  represent 
Th'  omnipotence  of  Parliament. 
As  antient  heroes  gain'd  by  shifts, 
From  gods,  as  poets  tell,  their  gifts  ; 
Our  General,  as  his  actions  show, 
Gain'd  like  assistance  from  below, 
By  satan  graced  with  full  supplies 
From  all  his  magazine  of  lies. 
Yet  could  his  practice  ne'er  impart 
The  wit  to  tell  a  lie  with  art. 


*  General  Gage,  commander  in  Chief  of  the  king's  troops  in 
North  America,  was  in  1 773  appointed  Governor  and  Vice-Ad- 
miral  of  Massachusetts  ;  in  the  room  of  Hutchinson,  who  had 
been  the  most  active  agent  of  the  Minister  in  fomenting  the 
disputes  which  brought  on  the  war.  Lowl.  Edit. 


M'FINGAL.  19 

Those  lies  alone  are  formidable 

Where  artful  truth  is  mix'd  with  fable. 

But  Gage  has  bungled  oft  so  vilely, 

No  soul  would  credit  lies  so  silly, 

Outwent  all  faith,  and  stretch'd  beyond 

Credulity  Vextremest  end : 

Whence  plain  it  seems,  though  satan  once 

O'erlook'd  with  scorn  each  brainless  dunce, 

And  blundering  brutes  in  Eden  shunning, 

Chose  out  the  serpent  for  his  cunning  ; 

Of  late  he  is  not  half  so  nice, 

Nor  picks  out  aids  because  they're  wise  : 

For  had  he  stood  upon  perfection, 

His  present  friends  had  lost  th'  election, 

And  fared  as  hard,  in  this  proceeding, 

As  owls  and  asses  did  in  Eden. 

"  Yet  fools  are  often  dangerous  enemies ; 
As  meanest  reptiles  are  most  venomous  : 
Nor  e'er  could  Gage,  by  craft  or  prowess, 
Have  done  a  whit  more  mischief  to  us : 
Since  he  began  th'  unnat'ral  war, 
The  work  his  masters  sent  him  for. 

a  And  are  there  in  this  freeborn  land 
Among  ourseivee  a  venal  band ; 


20  M'FINGAL. 

A  dastard  race,  who  long  have  sold 
Their  souls  and  consciences  for  gold  ; 
Who  wish  to  stab  their  country's  vitals, 
Could  they  enjoy  surviving  titles  ; 
With  pride  behold  our  mischiefs  brewing, 
Insult  and  triumph  in  our  ruin  ? 
,    Priests,  who,  if  satan  should  sit  down 
To  make  a  bible  of  his  own, 
Would  gladly,  for  the  sake  of  mitres, 
Turn  his  inspired  and  sacred  writers  ; 
Lawyers,  who,  should  he  wish  to  prove 
His  claim  to  his  old  seat  above, 
Would,  if  his  cause  he'd  give  them  fees  in, 
Bring  writs  of  Entry  sur  disseisin, 
Plead  for  him  boldly  at  the  session, 
And  hope  to  put  him  in  possession  ; 
Merchants  who,  for  his  friendly  aid 
Would  make  him  partner  in  their  trade, 
Hang  out  their  signs  in  goodly  show, 
Inscribed  with,  Beelzebub  &  Co.; 
And  judges,  who  would  list  his  pages, 
For  proper  liveries  and  wages  ; 
And  who  as  humbly  cringe  and  bow 
To  all  his  mortal  servants  now  ? 


Efl?  SPIES' (BL&Efl 

AS    THT7S      HE     SHAKE,    OTJR.     SO  DIM    M<    EINGAT, 
GAVE     TO     HIS     BARTIZANS     A    SIONAI.. 
THE     TORIES      ' 

SET  UT  A  OUN'RAL     ItOtJ'!1      TN    CHORDS; 

Cinlo   1. 


Printed,     by    3  Ru.sst.ll: 


M'FINGAL.  21 

There  are  ;  and  shame,  with  pointing  gestures, 
Marks  out  th'  Addressers  and  Protesters  ; 
Whom  following  down  the  stream  of  fate, 
Contempts  ineffable  await ; 
And  public  infamy  forlorn, 
Dread  hate  and  everlasting  scorn." 

As  thus  he  spake,  our  'Squire  M'FINGAL 
Gave  to  his  partisans  a  signal. 
Not  quicker  roll'd  the  waves  to  land, 
When  Moses  waved  his  potent  wand, 
Nor  with  more  uproar,  than  the  Tories 
Set  up  a  general  rout  in  chorus;  [jeer'd  ; 

Laugh'd,  hiss'd,  hem'd,  rnurmur'd,  groan'd  and 
Honorius  now  could  scarce  be  heard. 
Our  Muse,  amid  th'  increasing  roar, 
Could  not  distinguish  one  word  more  ; 
Though  she  sate  by,  in  firm  record 
To  take  in  short  hand  every  word, 


*  The  Addressers  were  those  who  addressed  General  Gage 
with  expressions  of  gratitude  and  attachment.,  on  his  arrival 
with  a  fleet  and  army  to  subdue  the  country  :  the  Protesters, 
those  who  published  protests  against  the  measures  of  the  first 
Congress,  and  the  resolves  of  the  people  in  town-meetings 
and  conventions. 


22  M*FINGAL. 

As  ancient  Muses  wont ;  to  whom 
Old  bards  for  depositions  come  ; 
Who  must  have  writ  them  ;  for  how  else 
Could  they  each  speech  verbatim  tell  's  ? 
And  though  some  readers  of  romances 
Are  apt  to  strain  their  tortured  fancies, 

.-And  doubt  (when  lovers  all  alone 

x* 
Their  sad  soliloquies  do  groan, 

Grieve  many  a  page,  with  no  one  near  'em, 

And  nought,  but  rocks  and  groves,  to  hear  'em) 

What  sprite  infernal  could  have  tattled, 

And  told  the  authors  all  they  prattled  ; 

Whence  some  weak  minds  have  made  objection 

That  what  they  scribbled  must  be  fiction  : 

'Tis  false  ;  for  while  the  lover  spoke, 

The  Muse  was  by  with  table-book, 

And  least  some  blunder  should  ensue, 

Echo  stood  clerk,  and  kept  the  cue. 

And  though  the  speech  ben't  worth  a  groat, 

It  can't  be  call'd  the  author's  fault ; 

But  error  merely  of  the  prater, 

Who  should  have  talk'd  to  th'  purpose  better: 

Which  full  excuse,  my  critic  brothers, 

May  help  me  out  as  well  as  others ; 


M'FINGAL.  23 

And  'tis  designed,  though  here  it  lurk, 
To  serve  as  Preface  to  this  work. 
So  let  it  be — for  now  our  'Squire 
No  longer  could  contain  his  ire, 
And  rising  'midst  applauding  Tories, 
Thus  vented  -wrath  upon  Honorius. 

Quoth  he,  "  'Tis  wondrous  what  strange  stuff 
Your  Whigs-heads  are  compounded  of; 
Which  force  of  logic  cannot  pierce, 
Nor  syllogistic  carte  and  tierce, 
Nor  weight  of  scripture  or  of  reason 
Suffice  to  make  the  least  impression. 
Not  heeding  what  ye  rais'd  contest  on, 
Ye  prate,  and  beg,  or  steal  the  question  ; 
And  when  your  boasted  arguings  fail, 
Strait  leave  all  reas'ning  off,  to  rail. 

"  Have  not  our  High-church  Clergy*  made  it 
Appear  from  Scriptures,  which  ye  credit, 
That  right  divine  from  heaven  was  lent 
To  kings,  that  is,  the  Parliament, 


*  The  absurd  doctrines  of  passive  obedience,  non-resis- 
tance, and  the  divine  right  of  Kings,  were  inculcated  with 
great  vehemence  at  this  period. 


24  M'FINGAL. 

Their  subjects  to  oppress  and  teaze, 
And  serve  the  devil  when  they  please  ? 
Did  not  they  write,  and  pray,  and  preach, 
And  torture  all  the  parts  of  speech, 
About  rebellion  make  a  pother, 
From  one  end  of  the^land  to  th'  other  ? 
And  yet  gain'd  fewer  proselyte  Whigs, 
Than  old  St.  Anth'ny  'mongst  the  pigs  ;* 
And  changed  not  half  so  many  vicious, 
As  Austin  when  he  preach'd  to  fishes, 
Who  throng'd  to  hear,  the  legend  tells, 
Were  edified,  and  wagg'd  their  tails  : 
But  scarce  you'd  prove  it,  if  you  tried, 
That  e'er  one  Whig  was  edified. 
Have  ye  not  heard  from  Parson  Walterf 
Much  dire  presage  of  many  a  halter  ? 
What  warnings  had  ye  of  your  duty, 
From  our  old  rev'rend  Sam.  Auchmuty  ;f 
From  priests  of  all  degrees  and  metres, 
T'  our  fag-end  man,  poor  Parson  Peters  ?J 

*  The  stories  of  St.  Anthony  and  his  pig,  and  of  St.  Aus- 
tin's preaching  to  the  fishes,  are  told  in  the  Popish  Legends, 
f  High-church  clergymen,  one  at  Boston,  one  at  New- York. 
J  Peters,  a  Tory  clergyman  of  Connecticut,  who  after  ren- 


M'FINGAL.  25 

Have  not  our  Cooper  and  our  Seabury 
Sung  hymns,  like  Barak  and  old  Deborah ; 
Proved  all  intrigues  to  set  you  free 
Rebellion  'gainst  the  Powers  that  be  ; 
Brought  over  many  a  scripture  text, 
That  used  to  wink  at  rebel  sects, 
Coax'd  wayward  ones  to  favor  regents, 
And  paraphrased  them  to  obedience  ; 
Proved  every  king,  ev'n  those  confest 
Horns  of  the  Apocalyptic  beast, 
And  sprouting  from  its  noddles  seven, 
Ordain'd,  as  Bishops  are,  by  heaven  ; 
(For  reasons  similar,  as  we're  told 
That  Tophet  was  ordain'd  of  old) 
By  this  lay-ordination  valid, 
Becomes  all  sanctified  and  hallow'd, 


dering  himself  generally  detestable,  absconded  from  the  con- 
tempt, rather  than  the  vengeance  of  his  fellow-citizens,  and 
went  to  England,  where  he  published  a  libel,  which  he  cal- 
led, A  History  of  that  Colony  ;  Cooper,  a  writer  of  the  same 
stamp,  President  of  the  College  at  New- York,  Poet,  Punster 
and  Satyrist  5  Seabury,  a  clergyman  of  the  same  Provinr P. 
4 


26  M'FINGAL. 

Takes  patent  out  as  heaven  has  signed  it, 

And  starts  up  strait,  the  Lord's  Anointed  ? 

As  extreme  unction,  which  can  cleanse 

Each  penitent  from  deadly  sins  ; 

Make  them  run  glib,  when  oiled  by  priest, 

The  heav'nly  road,  like  wheels  new  greased  : 

Serve  them,  like  shoe-ball,  for  defences, 

'Gainst  wear  and  tear  of  consciences  : 

So  king's  anointment  clears  betimes, 

Like  fuller's  earth,  all  spots  of  crimes, 

For  future  knaveries  gives  commissions, 

Like  Papists  sinning  under  license. 

For  heaven  ordain'd  the  origin, 

Divines  declare,*  of  pain  and  sin, 

Prove  such  great  good  they  both  have  done  us. 

Kind  rnercy  'twas  they  came  upon  us ; 

For  without  sin  and  pain  and  folly, 

Man  ne'er  was  blest,  nor  wise,  nor  holy : 

And  we  should  thank  the  Lord  'tis  so, 

As  authors  grave  wrote  long  ago. 


*  See  the  modern  Metaphysical  Divinity 


M'FINGAL.  27 

Now  heav'n  its  issues  never  brings 

Without  the  means,  and  these  are  kings  ; 

And  he  who  blames  when  they  announce  ills, 

Would  counteract  th'  eternal  counsels. 

As  when  the  Jews,  a  murm'ring  race, 

By  constant  grumblings  fell  from  grace, 

Heav'n  taught  them  first  to  know  their  distance, 

By  famine,  slavery  and  Philistines  ; 

When  these  could  no  repentance  bring, 

In  wrath  it  sent  them  last  a  king : 

So  nineteen,  'tis  believ'd,  in  twenty 

Of  modern  kings  for  plagues  are  sent  you  : 

Nor  can  your  cavillers  pretend 

But  that  they  answer  well  their  end. 

'Tis  yours  to  yield  to  their  command, 

As  rods  in  Providence's  hand ; 

For  when  it  means  to  send  you  pain, 

You  toss  your  foreheads  up  in  vain  ; 

Your  way  is,  hush'd  in  peace,  to  bear  it, 

And  make  necessity  a  merit. 

Hence  sure  perdition  must  await 

The  man,  who  rises  'gainst  the  State, 

Who  meets  at  once  the  damning  sentence. 

Without  one  loophole  for  repentance  ; 


J8  M'FINGAL. 

Ev'n  though  he  gain  the  Royal  See, 

And  rank  among  the  Powers  that  be. 

For  hell  is  theirs,  the  scripture  shows, 

Whoe'er  the  Powers  that  be  oppose  ; 

And  all  those  Powers  (I'm  clear  that  'tis  so) 

Are  damn'd  for  ever,  ex  ojficio. 

"  Thus  far  our  Clergy  :  but  'tis  true 
We  lack'd  not  earthly  reas'ners  too, 
Had  I  the  Poet's*  brazen  lungs, 
As  soundboard  to  his  hundred  tongues, 
I  could  not  half  the  scribblers  muster, 
That  swarm'd  round  Rivingtonf  in  cluster  ; 
Assemblies,  Councilmen,  forsooth, 
Brush,  Cowper,  Wilkins,  Chandler,  Booth : 
Yet  all  their  arguments  and  sapience 
You  did  not  value  at  three  halfpence. 
Did  not  our  MassachusettensisJ 
For  your  conviction  strain  his  senses  ; 


*  Virgil.-' 

f  Rivington,  printer  of  the  Royal  Gazette  in  New- York. — 
The  Legislature  of  that  Province  were  opposed  to  the  meas- 
ures of  the  country. 

f  A  course  of  Essays  under  that  signature  was  published  in 


M'FINGAL.  29 

Scrawl  every  moment  he  could  spare 
From  cards  and  barbers  and  the  fair ; 
Show,  clear  as  sun  in  noonday  heavens, 
You  did  not  feel  a  single  grievance  ; 
Demonstrate  all  your  opposition 
Sprung  from  the  eggs*  of  foul  Sedition  ; 
Swear  he  had  seen  the  nest  she  laid  in, 
And  knew  how  long  she  had  been  sitting  ; 
Could  tell  exact  what  strength  of  heat  is 
Required  to  hatch  her  out  Committees; 
What  shapes  they  take,  and  how  much  longer's 
The  time  before  they  grow  t'  a  Congress  ? 
He  white-wash'd  Hutchinson,  and  varnish'd 
Our  Gage,  who'd  got  a  little  tarnish'd ; 


Boston,  in  the  latter  part  of  1774  and  beginning  of  1775.  It 
was  the  last  combined  effort  of  Tory  wit  and  argument  to 
write  down  the  Revolution. 

*  "  Committees  of  correspondence  are  the  foulest  and  most 
venomous  serpent,  that  ever  issued  from  the  eggs  of  Sedi- 
tion," &c.  Massachusellensis. 

The  scheme  of  appointing  such  committees  in  every  town 
was  first  devised  by  the  celebrated  Samuel  Adams  ;  they  be- 
came a  most  powerful  engine  for  combining  the  sentiments  and 
directing  the  energies  of  the  people. 


30  M'FINGAL. 

Made  them  new  masks,  in  time  no  doubt, 
For  Hutchinson's  was  quite  worn  out : 
Yet  while  he  muddled  all  his  head, 
You  did  not  heed  a  word  he  said. 

"  Did  not  our  grave  Judge  Sewall*  hit 
The  summit  of  newspaper  wit ; 
Fill  every  leaf  of  every  paper 
Of  Mills  $•  Hicks,  and  mother  Draperf  ; 
Draw  proclamations,  works  of  toil, 
In  true  sublime  of  scarecrow  style, 
Write  farces  too  'gainst  sons  of  freedom, 
All  for  your  good,  and  none  would  read  'em  j 
Denounce  damnation  on  their  frenzy, 
Who  died  in  Whig-impenitency  ; 
Affirm  that  heav'n  would  lend  us  aid. 
As  all  our  Tory  writers  said  ; 
And  calculate  so  well  its  kindness, 
He  told  the  moment  when  it  join'd  us  ? 


*  Judge  of  Admiralty  and  Attorney  General  of  Massachu- 
setts, Gage's  chief  adviser  and  proclamation-maker,  author 
of  a  farce,  called  "  The  American  roused,"  and  of  a  multi- 
tude of  news-paper  essays. 

f  Printers  of  ministerial  gazettes  in  Boston. 


M'FINGAL.  31 

"  'Twas  then  belike,"  Honorius  cried, 
"  When  you  the  public  fast  defied. 
Refused  to  heaven  to  raise  a  prayer, 
Because  you'd  no  connections  there  ; 
And  since  with  reverent  hearts  and  faces. 
To  Governors  you'd  paid  addresses, 
In  them,  who  made  you  Tories,  seeing 
You  lived  and  moved  and  had  your  being. 
Your  humble  vows  you  would  not  breathe 
To  powers,  you'd  no  acquaintance  with. 

"  As  for  your  fasts,"  replied  our  'Squire, 
"  What  circumstance  could  fasts  require  ? 
We  kept  them  not,  but  'twas  no  crime. 
We  held  them  merely  loss  of  time. 
For  what  advantage  firm  and  lasting. 
Pray,  did  you  ever  get  by  fasting. 
Or  what  the  gain,  that  can  arise 
From  vows  and  offerings  to  the  skies  ? 
Will  heaven  reward  with  posts  and  fees. 
Or  send  us  tea,*  as  consignees, 

*  Alluding  to  the  famous  cargo  of  tea,  which  was  destroyed 
i  Boston  harbor,  the  consignees  of  which  were  the  tools  of 
the  British  ministry. 


in 


3Z  AT  FIN  GAL. 

Give  pensions,  salaries,  places,  bribes, 

Or  chuse  us  judges,  clerks  or  scribes  ? 

Has  it  commissions  in  its  gift, 

Or  cash  to  serve  us  at  a  lift  ? 

Are  acts  of  parliament  there  made, 

To  carry  on  the  placeman's  trade, 

Or  has  it  pass'd  a  single  bill 

To  let  us  plunder  whom  we  will  ? 

"  And  look  our  list  of  placemen  all  over  ; 
Did  heaven  appoint  our  chief  J  udge  Oliver,* 
Fill  that  high  bench  with  ignoramus, 
Or  has  it  councils  by  mandamus  ?f 
Who  made  that  wit  of  water-gruel 
A  judge  of  admiralty,  Sewall  ? 
And  were  they  not  mere  earthly  struggles, 
That  raised  up  Murray,  say,  and  Ruggles  ? 


*  Peter  Oliver  Esq.  without  legal  science  or  professional 
education,  was  appointed  Chief  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court 
in  Massachusetts. 

f  The  Council  of  that  Province  had  ever,  by  its  charter,  been 
elective.  The  charter  was  declared  void,  and  the  King  ap- 
pointed them  by  writ  of  mandamus.  The  persons,  named  in 
this  paragraph,  were  some  of  the  most  conspicuous  of  the 
new  members. 


M'FINGAL.  33 

Did  heaven  send  down,  our  pains  to  medicine, 

That  old  simplicity  of  Edson, 

Or  by  election  pick  out  from  us 

That  Marshfield  blunderer,  Nat.  Ray  Thomas : 

Or  had  it  any  hand  in  serving 

A  Loring,  Pepperell,  Browne  or  Irving  ? 

"  Yet  we've  some  saints,  the  very  thing. 
To  pit  against  the  best  you'll  bring ; 
For  can  the  strongest  fancy  paint, 
Than  Hutchinson,  a  greater  saint  / 
Was  there  a  parson  used  to  pray, 
At  times  more  regular,  twice  a  day : 
As  folks  exact  have  dinners  got, 
Whether  they've  appetites  or  not  ? 
Was  there  a  zealot  more  alarming 
'Gainst  public  vice  to  hold  forth  sermon, 
Or  fix'd  at  church,  whose  inward  motion 
Roll'd  up  his  eyes  with  more  devotion  ? 
What  puritan  could  ever  pray 
In  godlier  tone,  than  Treasurer  Gray, 
Or  at  town-meetings  speechifying, 
Could  utter  more  melodious  whine, 
And  shut  his  eyes,  and  vent  his  moan. 
Like  owl  afflicted  in  the  sun  : 

5 


34 

Who  once  sent  home,  his  canting  rival. 
Lord  Dartmouth's  self,  might  outbedrivel. 

"  Have  you  forgot,"   Honorius  cried, 
"  How  your  prime  saint  the  truth*  defied. 
x\ffirm'd  he  never  wrote  a  line 
Your  charter'd  rights  to  undermine, 
When  his  own  letters  then  were  by, 
Which  proved  his  message  all  a  lie  r 


*  Hutchinson,  while  Governor  of  the  Province,  in  his  let- 
ters to  the  ministry  declared  the  necessity,  in  order  to  main- 
tain government,  of  destroying  the  Charter,  abridging  what 
he  termed  English  Liberties,  making  the  Judges  dependent 
only  on  the  crown,  and  erecting  a  nobility  in  America.  Doc- 
tor Franklin,  then  provincial  Agent  at  the  British  Court,  ob- 
tained a  number  of  the  originals,  and  transmitted  them  to 
Boston.  In  1773,  in  a  speech  to  the  Legislative  Assembly, 
he  affirmed  the  absolute  and  unlimited  authority  of  the  parlia- 
ment over  the  Colonies.  This  drew  from  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives a  spirited  and  argumentative  reply.  He  rejoin- 
ed ;  and  in  the  course  of  the  debate,  finding  himself  suspect- 
ed of  advising  the  ministry  to  oppressive  measures,  declared 
that  he  had  ever  been  an  advocate  for  the  rights  of  the  Pro- 
vince contained  in  the  Charter,  and  the  equal  liberties  of  the 
Colonists  with  the  other  subjects  of  the  British  Dominion.  On 
this,  Hutchinson's  letters  were  immediately  published  in  Bos- 
ton, to  the  utter  confusion  of  all  his  pretensions,  political  and 
religious. 


M'FINGAL.  35 

How  many  promises  he  seal'd 

To  get  th'  oppressive  acts  repeal'd, 

Yet  once  arrived  on  England's  shore, 

Set  on  the  Premier  to  pass  more  ? 

But  these  are  no  defects,  we  grant. 

In  a  right  loyal  Tory  saint, 

Whose  godlike  virtues  must  with  ease 

Atone  for  venial  crimes,  like  these : 

Or  ye  perhaps  in  scripture  spy 

A  new  commandment,  "  Thou  shalt  lie  ;" 

If  this  be  so  (as  who  can  tell  ?) 

There's  no  one  sure  ye  keep  so  well." 

Quoth  he,  "  For  lies  and  promise-breaking, 
Ye  need  not  be  in  such  a  taking : 
For  lying  is,  we  know  and  teach, 
The  highest  privilege  of  speech ; 
The  universal  Magna  Charta, 
To  which  all  human  race  is  party, 
Whence  children  first,  as  David  says, 
Lay  claim  to't  in  their  earliest  days  ; 
The  only  stratagem  in  war, 
Our  generals  have  occasion  for ; 
The  only  freedom  of  the  press, 
Our  politicians  need  in  peace. 


36  M'FINGAL. 

Thank  heaven,  your  shot  have  miss'd  their  aim. 
For  lying  is  no  sin  nor  shame. 

"  As  men  last  wills  may  change  again, 
Tho'  drawn,  "  In  name  of  God,  Amen  ;" 
Be  sure  they  must  have  clearly  more 
O'er  promises  as  great  a  power, 
Which,  made  in  haste,  with  small  inspection, 
So  much  the  more  will  need  correction ; 
And  when  they've,  careless,  spoke  or  penn'd  'em. 
Have  right  to  look  them  o'er  and  mend  'em ; 
Revise  their  vows,  or  change  the  text, 
By  way  of  codicil  annex'd  ; 
Strike  out  a  promise,  that  was  base, 
And  put  a  better  in  its  place. 

"  So  Gage  of  late  agreed,  you  know, 
To  let  the  Boston  people  go  ; 
Yet  when  he  saw  'gainst  troops  that  braved  him, 
They  were  the  only  guards  that  saved  him, 
Kept  off  that  satan  of  a  Putnam* 
From  breaking  in  to  maul  and  mutton  him  ; 


*  General  Putnam  took  the  command  of  the  provincial 
troops,  and  blockaded  Boston,  immediately  after  the  battle  of 
Lexington.  Gage,  while  his  army  were  in  possession  of  th;it 


M'FINGAL.  37 

He'd  too  much  wit,  such  leagues  t'  observe, 
And  shut  them  in  again,  to  starve. 

"  So  Moses  writes,  when  female  Jews 
Made  oaths  and  vows  unfit  for  use, 
Their  parents  then  might  set  them  free 
From  that  conscientious  tyranny  : 
And  shall  men  feel  that  spir'tual. bondage 
For  ever,  when  they  grow  beyond  age  ? 
Shall  vows  but  bind  the  stout  and  strong, 
And  let  go  women  weak  and  young, 
As  nets  enclose  the  larger  crew, 
And  let  the  smaller  fry  creep  through  r 
Besides,  the  Whigs  have  all  been  set  on. 
The  Tories  to  affright  and  threaten, 
Till  Gage  amidst  his  trembling  fits, 
Has  hardly  kept  him  in  his  wits ; 
And  though  he  speak  with  fraud  and  finesse, 
'Tis  said  beneath  duress  per  minas. 


place,  promised  to  permit  the  inhabitants  to  retire  into  the 
country,  on  condition  of  surrendering  up  their  arms  ;  but  after 
their  compliance,  he  refused  to  perform  his  engagement — hop- 
ing that  the  Americans  would  not  attempt  to  bombard  the 
town,  or  enter  it  by  storm,  while  they  must  endanger  the  lives 
of  so  many  thousands  of  their  fellow-citizens. 

463.87 


38  M'FINGAL. 

For  we're  in  peril  of  our  souls 
From  your  vile  feathers,  tar  and  poles  ; 
And  vows  extorted  are  not  binding 
In  law,  and  so  not  worth  the  minding. 
For  we  have  in  this  hurly-burly 
Sent  off  our  consciences  on  furlow  ; 
Thrown  our  religion  o'er  in  form, 
Our  ship  to  lighten  in  the  storm. 
Nor  need  we  blush  your  Whigs  before  ; 
Had  we  no  virtue,  you've  no  more. 

"  Yet  black  with  sins,  would  spoil  a  mitre. 
Rail  ye  at  faults  by  ten  tints  whiter  ? 
And,  stuff 'd  with  choler  atrabilious, 
Insult  us  here  for  peccadilloes  ? 
While  all  your  vices  run  so  high 
That  mercy  scarce  could  find  supply : 
And  should  you  offer  to  repent, 
You'd  need  more  fasting  days  than  Lent, 
More  groans  than  haunted  church-yard  vallies. 
And  more  confessions  than  broad-alleys.* 


*  Alluding  to  church  discipline,  where  a  person  is  obliged  to 
stand  in  an  ile  of  the  church,  called  in  New-England  the 
broad  alley,  name  the  offence  he  has  committed,  and  ask  par- 
doii  of  his  brethren. 


Ml  FIN  GAL. 

I'll  show  you  all  at  fitter  time, 
Th'  extent  and  greatness  of  your  crime, 
And  here  demonstrate  to  your  face. 
Your  want  of  virtue,  as  of  grace, 
Evinced  from  topics  old  and  recent : 
But  thus  much  must  suffice  at  present. 
To  th'  after  portion  of  the  day, 
I  leave  what  more  remains  to  say ; 
When,  I've  good  hope,  you'll  all  appear, 
More  fitted  and  prepared  to  hear, 
And  grieved  for  all  your  vile  demeanour: 
But  now  'tis  time  t'  adjourn  for  dinner." 


END  OF  CANTO  FIRST. 


M'FINGAL. 

CANTO   II. 

THE  TOWN-MEETING,  P.  M. 


1  HE  Sun,  who  never  stops  to  dine, 
Two  hours  had  pass'd  the  mid-way  line, 
And  driving  at  his  usual  rate, 
Lash'd  on  his  downward  car  of  state. 
And  now  expired  the  short  vacation, 
And  dinner  o'er  in  epic  fashion, 
While  all  the  crew,  beneath  the  trees, 
Eat  pocket-pies,  or  bread  and  cheese, 
(Nor  shall  we,  like  old  Homer,  care 
To  versify  their  bill  of  fare) 
Each  active  party,  feasted  well, 
Throng'd  in,  like  sheep,  at  sound  of  bell ; 
With  equal  spirit  took  their  places, 
And  meeting  oped  with  three  Oh  Yesses : 
When  first,  the  daring  Whigs  t'  oppose, 
Again  the  great  M'FINGAL  rose, 


42  M'FINGAL. 

Stretch'd  magisterial  arm  amain, 
And  thus  resumed  th'  accusing  strain. 

"  Ye  Whigs  attend,  and  hear  affrighted 
The  crimes  whereof  ye  stand  indicted  ; 
The  sins  and  follies  past  all  compass, 
That  prove  you  guilty,  or  non  compos. 
I  leave  the  verdict  to  your  senses, 
And  jury  of  your  consciences ; 
Which  though  they're  neither  good  nor  true, 
Must  yet  convict  you  and  your  crew. 

"  Ungrateful  sons  !  a  factious  band, 
That  rise  against  your  parent  land  ! 
Ye  viper  race,  that  burst  in  strife 
The  genial  womb  that  gave  you  life, 
Tear  with  sharp  fangs  and  forked  tongue 
The  indulgent  bowels  whence  ye  sprung : 
And  scorn  the  debt  and  obligation, 
You  justly  owe  the  British  nation, 
Which,  since  you  cannot  pay,  your  crew 
Affect  to  swear  was  never  due. 

"  Did  not  the  deeds  of  England's*  primate 
First  drive  your  fathers  to  this  climate, 

*  The  persecutions  of  the  English  Church  under  Archbisli- 


M'FINGAL.  4o 

Whom  jails  and  fines  and  every  ill 

Forced  to  their  good  against  their  will  ? 

Ye  owe  to  their  obliging  temper 

The  peopling  your  new-fangled  empire, 

While  every  British  act  and  canon 

Stood  forth  your  causa  sine  qua  non. 

Who'd  seen,  except  for  these  restraints, 

Your  witches,  quakers,  whigs  and  saints, 

Or  heard  of  Mather's*  famed  Magnolia, 

If  Charles  and  Laud  had  chanced  to  fail  you  ? 

Did  they  not  send  your  charters  o'er, 

And  give  you  lands  you  own'd  before, 

Permit  you  all  to  spill  your  blood, 

And  drive  out  heathens  where  you  could  ; 

On  these  mild  terms,  that,  conquest  won, 

The  realm  you  gain'd  should  be  their  own  ? 


op  Laud  are  well  known  to  have  been  the  cause  of  the  peo- 
pling of  New-England. — Lond.  Edit. 

*  See  in  Mather's  Magnalia,  a  history  of  the  miracles,  which 
occurred  in  the  first  settlement  of  New-England  ;  see  also  his 
;i  Wonders  of  the  invisible  World,"  for  a  full  and  true  account 
of  the  witchcraft  at  Salem. 


44  M'FINGAL. 

And  when  of  late  attack'd  by  those, 
Whom  her  connection  made  your  foes,* 
Did  they  not  then,  distress'd  by  war, 
Send  generals  to  your  help  from  far, 
Whose  aid  you  own'd,  in  terms  less  haughty, 
And  thankfully  o'erpaid  your  quota  ? 
Say,  at  what  period  did  they  grudge 
To  send  you  Governor  or  Judge, 
With  all  their  Missionary!  crew, 
To  teach  you  law  and  gospel  too  ? 


*  The  war  of  1755.  between  the  English  and  French,  was 
doubtless  excited  by  causes  foreign  to  the  interests  of  those 
Colonies,  which  now  form  the  United  States.  They  howev- 
er paid  more  than  their  proportion  of  the  expense,  and  a  ba- 
lance was  repaid  them  by  the  British  Government  after  the 
war. — Lond.  Edit. 

The  fact  is  that  England  involved  us  in  the  war,  in  which 
the  Colonies  must  have  been  destroyed  in  its  earliest  stages, 
had  it  not  been  for  their  pwn  extraordinary  exertions. 

f  These  Missionaries  were  Clergymen,  ordained  by  the 
Bishop  of  London,  and  settled  in  America.  Those  in  the 
northern  colonies  were  generally  attached  to  the  royal  cause. 

Lond.  Edit. 

Great  efforts  were  also  made  to  send  us  Bishops,  to  rule  the 
New-England  churches  ;  but  this  was  prevented  by  the  revo- 
lution. 


M'FINGAL.  4o 

They  brought  all  felons  in  the  nation 

To  help  you  on  in  population ; 

Proposed  their  Bishops  to  surrender, 

And  made  their  Priests  a  legal  tender, 

Who  only  ask'd,  in  surplice  clad, 

The  simple  tithe  of  all  you  had  : 

And  now,  to  keep  all  knaves  in  awe, 

Have  sent  their  troops  t'  establish  law, 

And  with  gunpowder,  fire  and  ball, 

Reform  your  people,  one  and  all. 

Yet  when  their  insolence  and  pride 

Have  anger'd  all  the  world  beside  ; 

When  fear  and  want  at  once  invade, 

Can  you  refuse  to  lend  them  aid, 

And  rather  risk  your  heads  in  fight, 

Than  gratefully  throw  in  your  mite  r 

Can  they  for  debts  make  satisfaction, 

Should  they  dispose  their  realm  at  auction, 

And  sell  off  Britain's  goods  and  land  all 

To  France  and  Spain,  by  inch  of  candle  ? 

Shall  good  King  George,  with  want  oppress'd, 

Insert  his  name  in  bankrupt  list, 

And  shut  up  shop,  like  failing  merchant, 

That  fears  the  bailiffs  should  make  search  in't ; 


46  M'FINGAL. 

With  poverty  shall  princes  strive, 
And  nobles  lack  whereon  to  live  ? 
Have  they  not  rack'd  their  whole  inventions 
To  feed  their  brats  on  posts  and  pensions  ; 
Made  their  Scotch  friends  with  taxes  groan, 
And  pick'd  poor  Ireland  to  the  bone  : 
Yet  have  on  hand,  as  well  deserving, 
Ten  thousand  bastards,*  left  for  starving  ? 
And  can  you  now,  with  conscience  clear, 
Refuse  them  an  asylum  here, 
And  not  maintain,  in  manner  fitting, 
These  genuine  sons  of  mother  Britain  ? 

"  T'  evade  these  crimes  of  blackest  grain 
You  prate  of  liberty  in  vain, 
And  strive  to  hide  your  vile  designs 
In  terms  abstruse,  like  school-divines. 

"  Your  boasted  patriotism  is  scarce, 
And  country's  love  is  but  a  farce  : 
For  after  all  the  proofs  you  bring, 
We  Tories  know  there's  no  such  thing. 


*  A  great  proportion  of  the  old  English  peerage  consists  pf 
the  left-handed  progeny  of  their  Kings.  In  this  business. 
Charles  the  second  was  the  last  hero. 


M'FINGAL.  47 

Hath  not  Dalrymple*  show'd  in  print, 
And  Johnson  too,  there's  nothing  in't ; 
Produced  you  demonstration  ample, 
From  others'  and  their  own  example, 
That  self  is  still,  in  either  faction, 
The  only  principle  of  action  ; 
The  loadstone,  whose  attracting  tether 
Keeps  the  politic  world  together  : 
And  spite  of  all  your  double  dealing, 
We  all  are  sure  'tis  so,  from  feeling. 

"  Who  heeds  your  babbling  of  transmitting 
Freedom  to  brats  of  your  begetting, 
Or  will  proceed,  as  tho'  there  were  a  tie, 
And  obligation  to  posterity  ? 
We  get  them,  bear  them,  breed  and  nurse. 
What  has  posterity  done  for  us, 


*  This  writer  undertook  to  demonstrate,  that  all  the  cele- 
brated British  patriots  were  pensioners,  in  the  pay  of  France. 
His  proof  is  derived  from  the  letters  of  the  French  embassa- 
dors,  who  accounting  for  the  monies  received  from  their  court, 
charge  so  many  thousand  guineas  paid  to  Hampden,  Sidney, 
and  others,  as  bribes.  We  are  told  also  that  Admiral  Rus- 
sell defeated  the  French  fleet,  at  a  time  when  he  had  engaged 
most  solemnly,  and  received  a  stipulated  sum,  to  be  beaten 
himself. 


48  M'FINGAL. 

That  we,  least  they  their  rights  should  lose, 
Should  trust  our  necks  to  gripe  of  noose  ? 

"  And  who  believes  you  will  not  run  ? 
Fe're  cowards,  every  mother's  son  ; 
And  if  you  offer  to  deny, 
We've  witnesses  to  prove  it  by. 
Attend  th'  opinion  first,  as  referee, 
Of  your  old  general,  stout  Sir  Jeffery  ;* 
Who  swore  that  with  five  thousand  foot 
He'd  rout  you  all,  and  in  pursuit 
Run  thro'  the  land,  as  easily 
As  camel  thro'  a  needle's  eye  ? 
Did  not  the  mighty  Colonel  Grant 
Against  your  courage  pour  his  rant, 
Affirm  your  universal  failure 
In  every  principle  of  valour, 
And  swear  no  scamperers  e'er  could  match  you, 
So  swift,  a  bullet  scarce  could  catch  you  ? 
And  will  you  not  confess,  in  this 
A  judge  most  competent  he  is  ; 


*  Sir  Jeftery  Amherst,  Grant  and  other  officers,  who  had 
served  in  America,  were  so  ignorant,  silly  or  malicious,  as  to 
make  such  assertions  in  parliament. 


M'FINGAL.  49 

Well  skill'd  on  running  to  decide, 
As  what  himself  has  often  tried  ? 
'Twould  not  methinks  be  labor  lost, 
If  you'd  sit  down  and  count  the  cost, 
And  ere  you  call  your  Yankies  out, 
First  think  what  work  you've  set  about. 
Have  you  not  roused,  his  force  to  try  on. 
That  grim  old  beast,  the  British  Lion ; 
And  know  you  not,  that  at  a  sup 
He's  large  enough  to  eat  you  up  ? 
Have  you  survey'd  his  jaws  beneath, 
Drawn  inventories  of  his  teeth, 
Or  have  you  weigh'd,  in  even  balance, 
His  strength  and  magnitude  of  talons? 
His  roar  would  change  your  boasts  to  fear, 
As  easily,  as  sour*  small  beer ; 
And  make  your  feet  from  dreadful  fray, 
By  native  instinct  run  away. 
Britain,  depend  on't,  will  take  on  her 
rP  assert  her  dignity  and  honor, 


*  It  is  asserted  that  the  roar  of  a  lion  will  turn  small 

sour. 

7 


50  M'FINGAL. 

And  ere  she'd  lose  your  share  of  pelf, 
Destroy  your  country,  and  herself. 
For  has  not  North  declared  they  fight 
To  gain  substantial  rev'nue  by't, 
Denied  he'd  ever  deign  to  treat, 
Till  on  your  knees  and  at  his  feet  ? 
And  feel  you  not  a  trifling  ague 
From  Van's  "  Delenda  est  Carthago  ?* 
For  this  now  Britain  has  projected, 
Think  you  she  has  not  means  t'  effect  it : 
Has  she  not  set  at  work  all  engines 
To  spirit  up  the  native  Indians, 
Send  on  your  backs  the  tawney  band. 
With  each  an  hatchet  in  his  hand, 
T'  amuse  themselves  with  scalping  knives, 
And  butcher  children  and  your  wives ; 
And  paid  them  for  your  scalps  at  sale 
More  than  your  heads  would  fetch  by  tale  : 


*  Carthage  must  be  annihilated.  There  actually  existed 
a  little  time  before  the  war,  a  member  of  parliament  of  the 
name  of  Van,  who  in  a  speech  there  applied  this  famous 
threat  of  Cato  to  America,  and  particularly  to  Boston,  as  the 
place  to  begin  the  work  of  destruction. 


M'FINGAL.  51 

That  she  might  boast  again  with  vanity, 
Her  English  national  humanity  ? 
For  now  in  its  primeval  sense 
This  term,  humanity,  comprehends 
All  things  of  which,  on  this  side  hell, 
The  human  mind  is  capable  ; 
And  thus  'tis  well,  by  writers  sage, 
Applied  to  Britain  and  to  Gage. 
On  this  brave  work  to  raise  allies, 
She  sent  her  duplicate  of  Guys, 
To  drive  at  different  parts  at  once  on, 
Her  stout  Guy  Carl  ton  and  Guy  Johnson  ;* 
To  each  of  whom,  to  send  again  you, 
Old  Guy  of  Warwick  were  a  ninny, 
Though  the  dun  cow  he  fell'd  in  war, 
These  killcows  are  his  betters  far. 

"  And  has  she  not  essay'd  her  notes 
To  rouse  your  slaves  to  cut  your  throats ; 
Sent  o'er  ambassadors  with  guineas, 
To  bribe  your  blacks  in  Carolinas  ? 


*  A  half-breed  son  of  the  famous  Sir  William,  who  influen- 
ced and  led  some  of  their  tribes  against  us  during  the  war. 


52  M'FINGAL. 

And  has  not  Gage,  her  missionary, 

Turn'd  many  an  Afric  to  a  Tory  ; 

Made  the  New-England  Bishop's  see  grow. 

By  many  a  new-converted  negro  ? 

As  friends  to  government,  when  he 

Your  slaves  at  Boston  late  set  free, 

Enlisted  them  in  black  parade, 

Emboss'd  with  regimental  red  ; 

While  flared  the  epaulette,  like  flambeau, 

On  Captain  Cuff  and  Ensign  Sambo  : 

And  were  they  not  accounted  then 

Among  his  very  bravest  men  ? 

And  when  such  means  she  stoops  to  take, 

Think  you  she  is  not  wide  awake  ? 

As  the  good  man  of  old  in  Job 

Own'd  wondrous  allies  through  the  globe, 

Had  brought  the  stones*  along  the  street 

To  ratify  a  cov'nant  meet, 


*  The  stones  and  all  the  elements  with  thee 
Shall  ratify  a  strict  confederacy, 
Wild  beasts  their  savage  temper  shall  forget, 
And  for  a  firm  alliance  with  thee  treat,  &c. 

Blackmore's  paraphrase  of  Job. 


M'FINGAL. 

And  every  beast,  from  lice  to  lions, 
To  join  in  leagues  of  strict  alliance  : 
Has  she  not  cringed,  in  spite  of  pride, 
For  like  assistance,  far  and  wide, 
Till  all  this  formidable  league  rose 
Of  Indians,  British  troops  and  Negroes  ? 
And  can  you  break  these  triple  bands 
By  all  your  workmanship  of  hands  ? 

"  Sir,"  quoth  Honorius,  "  we  presume 
You  guess  from  past  feats  what's  to  come, 
And  from  the  mighty  deeds  of  Gage 
Foretell  how  fierce  the  war  he'll  wage. 
You  doubtless  recollected  here 
The  annals  of  his  first  great  year  : 
While,  wearying  out  the  Tories'  patience, 
He  spent  his  breath  in  proclamations ..; 
While  all  his  mighty  noise  and  vapour 
Was  used  in  wrangling  upon  paper, 
And  boasted  military  fits 
Closed  in  the  straining  of  his  wits  ; 
While  troops,  in  Boston  commons  placed, 
Laid  nought,  but  quires  of  paper,  waste  ; 
While  strokes  alternate  stunn'd  the  nation, 
Protest,  Address  and  Proclamation, 


54  M'FINGAL. 

And  speech  met  speech,  fib  clash'd  with  fib, 
And  Gage  still  answer'd,  squib  for  squib. 

"  Though  this  not  all  his  time  was  lost  on  ; 
He  fortified  the  town  of  Boston, 
Built  breastworks,  that  might  lend  assistance 
To  keep  the  patriots  at  a  distance ; 
For  howsoe'er  the  rogues  might  scoff, 
He  liked  them  best  the  farthest  off ; 
Works  of  important  use  to  aid 
His  courage,  when  he  felt  afraid, 
And  whence  right  off,  in  manful  station, 
He'd  boldly  pop  his  proclamation. 
Our  hearts  must  in  our  bosoms  freeze, 
At  such  heroic  deeds  as  these." 

"  Vain,"  said  the  'Squire,  "you'll  find  to  sneer 
At  Gage's  first  triumphant  year ; 
For  Providence,  disposed  to  teaze  us, 
Can  use  what  instruments  it  pleases. 
To  pay  a  tax,  at  Peter's  wish, 
His  chief  cashier  was  once  a  fish  ; 
An  ass,  in  Balaam's  sad  disaster, 
Turn'd  orator  and  saved  his  master  ; 
A  goose,  placed  sentry  on  his  station, 
Preserved  old  Rome  from  desolation  : 


M'FINGAL.  5n 

An  English  bishop's*  cur  of  late 
Disclosed  rebellions  'gainst  the  state  : 
So  frogs  croak'd  Pharaoh  to  repentance, 
And  lice  delay'd  the  fatal  sentence  : 
And  heaven  can  ruin  you  at  pleasure. 
By  Gage,  as  soon  as  by  a  CaBsar. 
Yet  did  our  hero  in  these  days 
Pick  up  some  laurel  wreaths  of  praise. 
And  as  the  statuary  of  Seville 
Made  his  crackt  saint  an  exc'llent  devil ; 
So  though  our  war  small  triumph  brings. 
We  gain'd  great  fame  in  other  things. 

"  Did  not  our  troops  show  great  discerning. 
And  skill  your  various  arts  in  learning  P 
Outwent  they  not  each  native  noodle 
By  far,  in  playing  Yankee -doodle, t 


*  See  Atterbury's  trial. 

f  This  was  a  native  air  of  New-England,  and  was  often 
played  in  derision  by  the  British  troops,  particularly  on  their 
march  to  Lexington.  Afterwards  the  captive  army  of  Bur- 
goyne  were  obliged  to  march  to  this  tune,  in  the  ceremony  of 
piling  their  arms  at  Saratoga.  Lond.  Edit. 


56  M'FINGAL. 

Which  as  'twas  your  New-England  tune, 
'Twas  marvellous  they  took  so  soon  ? 
And  ere  the  year  was  fully  through, 
Did  not  they  learn  to  foot  it  too,* 
And  such  a  dance,  as  ne'er  was  known, 
For  twenty  miles  on  end  lead  down  ? 
Did  they  not  lay  their  heads  together, 
And  gain  your  art  to  tar  and  feather,! 


*  At  the  battle  of  Lexington. 

f  In  the  beginning  of  1775,  to  bring  forward  an  occasion 
for  a  more  serious  quarrel,  than  had  yet  taken  place  between 
the  people  and  the  army,  Lieutenant  Colonel  Nesbitt  laid  the 
following  plan.  The  country  people  being  in  the  habit  of 
purchasing  arms,  he  directed  a  soldier  to  sell  one  of  them  an 
old  rusty  musket.  The  soldier  soon  found  a  purchaser,  a 
man  who  brought  vegetables  to  market,  who  paid  him  three 
dollars  for  it.  Scarcely  had  the  man  parted  from  the  soldier 
when  he  was  seized  by  Nesbitt  and  conveyed  to  the  guard- 
house, where  he  was  confined  all  night.  Early  next  morning 
they  stripped  him  entirely  naked,  covered  him  with  warm  tar, 
and  then  with  feathers,  placed  him  on  a  cart,  conducted  him  to 
the  north  end  of  the  town,  then  back  to  the  south  end,  as  far  as 
Liberty-Tree  ;  where  the  people  began  to  collect  in  vast  num- 
bers, and  the  military,  fearing  for  their  own  safety,  dismissed 
the  man,  and  made  a  retreat  to  the  barracks. 

The  party  consisted  of  about  thirty  grenadiers  of  the  47th 
regiment,  with  fixed  bayonets,  twenty  drums  and  fifes  play- 


M'FINGAL. 

When  Colonel  Nesbit,  thro'  the  town, 
In  triumph  bore  the  country-clown  ? 
Oh  what  a  glorious  work  to  sing 
The  veteran  troops  of  Britain's  king, 
Adventuring  for  th'  heroic  laurel 
With  bag  of  feathers  and  tar-barrel ! 
To  paint  the  cart  where  culprits  ride, 
And  Nesbitt  marching  at  its  side, 
Great  executioner  and  proud, 
Like  hangman  high  on  Holborn  road  ; 
And  o'er  the  slow-drawn  rumbling  car. 
The  waving  ensigns  of  the  war  ! 
As  when  a  triumph  Rome  decreed 
For  great  Caligula's  valiant  deed, 
Who  had  subdued  the  British  seas, 
By  gath'ring  cockles  from  their  base  ; 
In  pompous  car  the  conq'ror  bore 
His  captive  scallops  from  the  shore, 
Ovations  gain'd  his  crabs  for  fetching, 
And  mighty  feats  of  oyster-catching  : 


ing  the   Rogue's  March,  headed   by  Nesbitt    with   a  drawn 
sword.     Land.  Edit. 
8 


58  M'FINGAL. 

'Gainst  Yankies  thus  the  war  begun, 
They  tarr'd,  and  triumph'd  over,  one  ; 
And  fought  and  boasted  through  the  season. 
With  force  as  great  and  equal  reason. 

"  Yet  thus  though  skill'd  in  vict'ry's  toils. 
They  boast,  not  unexpert,  in  wiles. 
For  gain'd  they  not  an  equal  fame  in 
The  arts  of  secrecy  and  scheming  ; 
In  stratagem  show'd  wondrous  force, 
And  modernized  the  Trojan  horse, 
Play'd  o'er  again  the  tricks  Ulyssean. 
In  their  famed  Salem  expedition  ? 
For  as  that  horse,  the  poets  tell  ye, 
Bore  Grecian  armies  in  its  belly, 
Till  their  full  reckoning  run,  with  joy 
Shrewd  Sinon  midwived  them  in  Troy  : 
So  in  one  ship  was  Leslie  bold 
Cramm'd  with  three  hundred  men  in  hold. 
Equipp'd  for  enterprize  and  sail, 
Like  Jonas  stow'd  in  womb  of  whale. 
To  Marblehead  in  depth  of  night 
The  cautious  vessel  wing'd  her  flight. 
And  now  the  sabbath's  silent  day 
Call'd  all  your  Yankies  off  to  pray  ; 


M'FINGAL.  59 

Safe  from  each  prying  jealous  neighbour, 
The  scheme  and  vessel  fell  in  labor. 
Forth  from  its  hollow  womb  pour'd  hast'ly 
The  Myrmidons  of  Colonel  Leslie. 
Not  thicker  o'er  the  blacken'd  strand, 
The  frogs  detachment,*  rush'd  to  land, 
Furious  by  onset  and  surprize 
To  storm  th'  entrenchment  of  the  mice. 
Through  Salem  straight,  without  delay, 
The  bold  battalion  took  its  way. 
Marched  o'er  a  bridge,f  in  open  sight 
Of  several  Yanldes  arm'd  for  fight ; 


*  See  Homer's  Battle  of  the  Frogs  and  Mice. 

f  The  object  of  this  expedition  was  to  seize  some  provincial 
artillery  and  stores,  placed  at  a  short  distance  from  Salem. 
Notwithstanding  his  stratagem,  when  he  came  to  a  small  river 
which  lay  between,  Leslie  found  the  bridge  taken  up,  the 
stores  removed,  and  the  people  alarmed  and  rapidly  collecting 
in  his  front,  as  well  as  rear.  He  then  opened  a  parley,  and 
promised  that  if  they  would  lay  down  the  bridge  and  suffer 
him  to  march  over  it,  he  would  immediately  return  from 
whence  he  came,  without  doing  harm  to  any.  person  or 
thing.  The  treaty  was  concluded  ;  Leslie  marched  with  his 
party  over  the  bridge,  wheeled  about  instantly  and  returned 
to  Boston  ;  having  performed  every  article  on  his  part,  with 
the  greatest  honor  and  safety. 


60  Al'jflNGAL. 

Then  without  loss  of  time  or  men, 
Veer'd  round  for  Boston  back  again, 
And  found  so  well  their  projects  thrive, 
That  every  soul  got  home  alive. 

"  Thus  Gage's  arms  did  fortune  bless 
With  triumph,  safety  and  success. 
But  mercy  is  without  dispute 
His  first  and  darling  attribute  ; 
So  great,  it  far  outwent  and  conquer'd 
His  military  skill  at  Concord. 
There,  when  the  war  he  chose  to  wage, 
Shone  the  benevolence  of  Gage  ; 
Sent  troops  to  that  ill-omen'd  place, 
On  errands  mere  of  special  grace  ; 
And  all  the  work,  he  chose  them  for, 
Was  to  prevent  a  civil  war  ;* 
For  which  kind  purpose  he  projected 
The  only  certain  way  t'  effect  it, 
To  seize  your  powder,  shot  and  arms, 
And  all  your  means  of  doing  harms  ; 


*  This  Gage  solemnly  declared  in  a  letter  to  Governor 
Trumbull  of  Connecticut,  soon  after  the  expedition.  The 
correspondence  was  immediately  published. 


M'FINGAL.  61 

As  prudent  folks  take  knives  away, 

Lest  children  cut  themselves  at  play. 

And  yet,  when  this  was  all  his  scheme, 

The  war  you  still  will  charge  on  him  ; 

And  tho'  he  oft  has  swore  and  said  it, 

Stick  close  to  facts,  and  give  no  credit,     [him  r 

Think  you,  he  wish'd  you'd  brave  and  beard 

Why,  'twas  the  very  thing,  that  scared  him. 

He'd  rather  you  should  all  have  run, 

Than  staid  to  fire  a  single  gun. 

So,  for  the  civil  war  you  lament, 

Faith,  you  yourselves  must  take  the  blame  in't ; 

For  had  you  then,  as  he  intended, 

Given  up  your  arms,  it  must  have  ended  : 

Since  that's  no  war,  each  mortal  knows, 

Where  one  side  only  gives  the  blows,* 


*  Si  rixa  est,  ubi  tu  pulsas,  ego  vapulo  tantum. — Juvenal. 

It  was  deemed  both  by  the  British  and  Americans,  a  matter 
of  the  utmost  importance  to  determine  which  party  began  the 
war.  Some  hundreds  of  depositions  were  taken  in  the  dis- 
pute, and  it  was  fully  proved  that  hostilities  were  first  com- 
menced at  Lexington  by  the  British  troops,  who  fired  on  a 
company  of  militia,  assembling  under  arms,  killed  eight  on 


62  M'FINGAL. 

And  t'other  bears  them  ;  on  reflection 
The  most  we  call  it  is  correction. 
Nor  could  the  contest  have  gone  higher, 
If  you  had  ne'er  return'd  the  fire  : 
But  when  you  shot,  and  not  before, 
It  then  commenced  a  civil  war. 
Else  Gage,  to  end  this  controversy, 
Had  but  corrected  you  in  mercy  ; 
Whom  mother  Britain,  old  and  wise, 
Sent  o'er,  the  colonies  to  chastise  ; 
Command  obedience  on  their  peril 
Of  ministerial  whip  and  ferule  ; 
And  since  they  ne'er  must  come  of  age. 
Govern'd  and  tutor'd  them  by  Gage. 
Still  more,  that  mercy  was  their  errand, 
The  army's  conduct  makes  apparent. 
What  though  at  Lexington  you  can  say, 
They  kill'd  a  few,  they  did  not  fancy  ; 


the  first  discharge,  and  dispersed  the  rest  without  opposition. 
The  popularity  of  the  war,  in  England  as  well  as  in  America, 
depended  greatly  at  that  time  on  the  result  of  this  enquiry — 
frivolous  as  it  may  now  appear. 


M'FINGAL.  63 

At  Concord  then  with  manful  popping, 

Discharged  a  round,  the  ball  to  open  ; 

Yet  when  they  saw  your  rebel  rout 

Determined  still  to  brave  it  out, 

Did  they  not  show  their  love  of  peace, 

Their  wish  that  discord  straight  might  cease ; 

Demonstrate,  and  by  proofs  uncommon, 

Their  orders  were  to  injure  no  man  ?* 

For  did  not  every  regularf  run, 

As  soon  as  e'er  you  fired  a  gun  ; 

Take  the  first  shot  you  sent  them,  greeting, 

As  meant  their  signal  for  retreating ; 

And  fearful,  if  they  staid  for  sport, 

You  might  by  accident  be  hurt, 

Convey  themselves  with  speed  away 

Full  twenty  miles  in  half  a  day  ; 

Race  till  their  legs  were  grown  so  weary, 

They  scarce  sufficed  their  weight  to  carry  r 


*  This  was  another  assertion  by  Gage,  in  his  letter  men- 
tioned in  the  former  note. 

f  In  the  former  wars  in  America,  the  term,  Regulars,  was 
applied  to  the  British  troops,  to  distinguish  them  from  the  Pro- 
vincials, or  new  levies  of  the  country. 


AFFINGAL. 


Whence  Gage  extols,  from  general  hearsay, 
The  great  activity  of  Lord  Percy  ;* 
Whose  brave  example  led  them  on, 
And  spirited  the  troops  to  run  ; 
Who  now  may  boast,  at  royal  levees, 
A  Yankee-chace  worth  forty  Chevys. 

"  Yet  you,  as  vile  as  they  were  kind, 
Pursued,  like  tygers,  still  behind  ; 
Fired  on  them  at  your  will,  and  shut 
The  town,  as  though  you'd  starve  them  out ; 
And  with  parade  preposterous f  hedged, 
Affect  to  hold  them  there  besieged : 
Though  Gage,  whom  proclamations  call 
Your  Gov'rnor  and  Vice- Admiral. 
Whose  power  gubernatorial  still 
Extends  as  far  as  Bunker's  hill. 


*  "  Too  much  praise  cannot  be  given  to  Lord  Percy  for 
his  remarkable  activity  through  the  whole  day." 

Gage's  account  of  (he  Lexington  battle. 
f  "  And  with  a  preposterous  parade  of  military  arrange- 
ment, they  affect  to  hold  the  army  besieged/'' 

last  grand  proclamation. 


M'FINGAL.  65 

Whose  admiralty  reaches,  clever, 
Near  half  a  mile  up  Mistic  river, 
Whose  naval  force  yet  keeps  the  seas, 
Can  run  away  whene'er  he'd  please. 
Nay,  stern  with  rage  grim  Putnam  boiling 
Plunder'd  both  Hogg  and  Noddle  Island  ;* 
Scared  troops  of  Tories  into  town, 
Burn'd  all  their  hay  and  houses  down, 
And  menaced  Gage,  unless  he'd  flee, 
To  drive  him  headlong  to  the  sea ; 
As  once,  to  faithless  Jews  a  sign, 
The  De'el,  turn'd  hog-reeve,  did  the  swine. 

"  But  now  your  triumphs  all  are  o'er  ; 
For  see  from  Britain's  angry  shore, 
With  deadly  hosts  of  valor  join 
Her  Howe,  her  Clinton  and  Burgoyne ! 
As  comets  thro'  th'  affrighted  skies 
Pour  baleful  ruin  as  they  rise  ; 
As  jEtna  with  infernal  roar 
In  conflagration  sweeps  the  shore  ; 


Two  islands  in  the  harbour  of  Boston. 
9 


t>6  M'FINGAL. 

Or  as  Abijah  White,*  when  sent 
Our  Marshfield  friends  to  represent, 
Himself  while  dread  array  involves, 
Commissions,  pistols,  swords,  resolves, 
In  awful  pomp  descending  down 
Bore  terror  on  the  factious  town  : 
Not  with  less  glory  and  affright, 
Parade  these  generals  forth  to  fight. 
No  more  each  British  colonel  runs 
From  whizzing  beetles,  as  air-guns  ; 
Thinks  horn-bugs  bullets,  or  thro'  fears 
Muskitoes  takes  for  musketeersf  ; 
Nor  scapes,  as  if  you'd  gain'd  supplies. 
From  Beelzebub's  whole  host  of  flies. 


*  He  was  representative  of  Marshfield,  and  was  employed 
to  carry  to  Boston  their  famous  town-resolves,  censuring  the 
Whigs  and  reprobating  the  destruction  of  the  Tea.  He  arm- 
ed himself  in  as  ridiculous  military  array,  as  a  second  Hudi- 
bras,  pretending  he  was  afraid  he  should  be  robbed  of  them. 

f  Absurd  as  this  may  appear,  it  was  a  fact.  Some  British 
officers,  soon  after  Gage's  arrival  in  Boston,  walking  on  Bea- 
con-Hill after  sunset,  were  affrighted  by  noises  in  the  air  (sup- 
posed to  be  the  flying  of  bugs  and  beetles)  which  they  took  to 
be  the  sound  of  bullets.  They  left  the  hill  with  great  precip- 
itation, spread  the  alarm  in  their  encampment,  and  wrote  ter- 


ABDAH      "WHITE, 

IN      AWFUL    POMP    DESCENDING    DOWN, 
BOM   TERROR.   ON    THE    FACTIOUS    TOWN: 


PUBLISHED     BY    SAMUEL  G   GOODKICH        HARTFORD. 

Prints    iy    D.  Kuttr/L 


M'FINGAL.  67 

No  bug  tjjese  warlike  hearts  appalls  ; 

They  better  know  the  sound  of  balls. 

I  hear  the  din  of  battle  bray  ; 

The  trump  of  horror  marks  its  way. 

I  see  afar  the  sack  of  cities, 

The  gallows  strung  with  Whig-committees  ; 

Your  moderators  triced,  like  vermin, 

And  gate-posts  graced  with  heads  of  chairmen  ; 

Your  Congress  for  wave-off'rings  hanging, 

And  ladders  throng'd  with  priests  haranguing. 

What  pillories  glad  the  Tories'  eyes 

With  patriot  ears  for  sacrifice ! 

What  whipping-posts  your  chosen  race 

Admit  successive  in  embrace, 

While  each  bears  off  his  sins,  alack  ! 

Like  Bunyan's  pilgrim,  on  his  back  !* 


rible  accounts  to  England  of  being  shot  at  with  air-guns ;  as 
appears  by  their  letters,  extracts  from  which  were  soon  after 
published  in  the  London  papers.  Indeed,  for  some  time  they 
seriously  believed,  that  the  Americans  were  possessed  of  a 
kind  of  magic  white  powder,  which  exploded  and  killed  with- 
out report. 

*  Bunyan  represents  his  pilgrim,  as  setting  forth  burdened 
with  a  very  heavy  pack,  containing  all  his  sins,  original  and 
actual. 


68  M'FINGAL. 

Where  then,  when  Tories  scarce  get  clear, 

Shall  Whigs  and  Congresses  appear  ? 

What  rocks  and  mountains  will  you  call 

To  wrap  you  over  with  their  fall, 

And  save  your  heads,  in  these  sad  weathers, 

From  fire  and  sword,  and  tar  and  feathers  ? 

For  lo  !  with  British  troops  tar-bright, 

Again  our  Nesbitt  heaves  in  sight ; 

He  comes,  he  comes,  your  lines  to  storm, 

And  rig  your  troops  in  uniform.* 

To  meet  such  heroes  will  ye  brag, 

With  fury  arm'd,  and  feather-bag, 

Who  wield  their  missile  pitch  and  tar 

With  engines  new  in  British  war  ? 

"  Lo  !  where  our  mighty  navy  brings 
Destruction  on  her  canvass  wings,f 
While  through  the  deep  the  British  thunder 
Shall  sound  th'  alarm,  to  rob  and  plunder ! 


*  The  want  of  uniform  dresses  in  the  American  army  was 
a  constant  theme  of  ridicule  with  the  British,  at  the  beginning 
of  the  war. 

f  Where'er  our  navy  spreads  her  canvas  wings,         „ 
Honor  to  thee  and  peace  to  all  she  brings.          Waller. 


M'FINGAL.  69 

As  Phoebus  first,  so  Homer  speaks, 

When  he  march'd  out  t'  attack  the  Greeks, 

'Gainst  mules  sent  forth  his  arrows  fatal, 

And  slew  th'  auxiliaries,  their  cattle : 

So  where  our  ships*  shall  stretch  the  keel, 

What  vanquish'd  oxen  shall  they  steal ! 

What  heroes,  rising  from  the  deep, 

Invade  your  marshall'd  hosts  of  sheep  ; 

Disperse  whole  troops  of  horse,  and  pressing, 

Make  cows  surrender  at  discretion  ; 

Attack  your  hens,  like  Alexanders, 

And  regiments  rout  of  geese  and  ganders  ; 

Or  where  united  arms  combine, 

Lead  captive  many  a  herd  of  swine  ! 

Then  rush  in  dreadful  fury  down 

To  fire  on  every  seaport  town ; 

Display  their  glory  and  their  wits, 

Fright  helpless  children  into  fits  ; 


-  The  British  navy  was  at  first  employed  in  plundering  our 
seacoasts,  to  obtain  fresh  provisions. 


70  M'FINGAL. 

And  stoutly,  from  the  unequal  fray, 
Make  many  a  woman  run  away. 

"  And  can  ye  doubt,  whene'er  we  please. 
Our  chiefs  shall  boast  such  deeds  as  these  ? 
Have  we  not  chiefs  transcending  far 
The  old  famed  thunderbolts  of  war;* 
Beyond  the  brave  knight-errant  fighters, 
Stiled  swords  of  death,  by  novel-writers ; 
Nor  in  romancing  ages  e'er  rose 
So  terrible  a  tier  of  heroes. 
From  Gage  what  sounds  alarm  the  waves ! 
How  loud  a  blunderbuss  is  Graves  !f 
How  Newport  dreads  the  blustering  sallies, 
That  thunder  from  our  popgun,  Wallace, 
While  noise  in  formidable  strains, 
Spouts  from  his  thimble-full  of  brains  ! 
I  see  you  sink  in  awed  surprise ! 
I  see  our  Tory  brethren  rise  ! 


-*  duo  fulmina  belli, 


Scipiadas.  Virgil. 

f  Graves  was  Admiral ;  Wallace,  Captain  of  a  frigate  sta- 
tioned before  Newport. 


M'FINGAL.  71 

And  as  the  sectaries  Sandemanian, 

Our  friends,  describe  their  hoped  millennium  ;* 

Boast  how  the  world  in  every  region 

At  once  shall  own  their  true  religion, 

For  heaven  shall  knock,  with  vengeance  dread, 

All  unbelievers  on  the  head ; 

And  then  their  church,  the  meek  in  spirit, 

The  earth,  as  promised,  shall  inherit 

From  the  dead  wicked,  as  heirs  male, 

Or  next  remainder-men  in  tail : 

Such  ruin  shall  the  Whigs  oppress  ; 

Such  spoils  our  Tory  friends  shall  bless  : 

While  Confiscation  at  command 

Shall  stalk  in  terror  through  the  land, 

Shall  give  all  whig-estates  away, 

And  call  our  brethren  into  play. 

"  And  can  you  pause,  or  scruple  more  f 
These  things  are  near  you,  at  the  door. 
Behold  !  for  though  to  reasoning  blind, 
Signs  of  the  times  you  still  might  mind. 


*  The  year  1793  was  the  period  they  fixed  upon,  for  this 
event  to  take  place. 


72  M'FIJNGAL. 

And  view  impending  fate,  as  plain 
As  you'd  foretell  a  shower  of  rain. 

"  Hath  not  heaven  warn'd  you  what  must  en- 
And  providence  declared  against  you  ?       [sue, 
Hung  forth  the  dire  portents  of  war 
By  fires  and  beacons  in  the  air  j* 
Alarm'd  old  women  all  around 
With  fearful  noises  under  ground, 
While  earth,  for  many  a  hundred  leagues, 
Groan'd  with  her  dismal  load  of  Whigs  ? 
Was  there  a  meteor,  far  and  wide, 
But  muster'd  on  the  Tory  side  ; 
A  star  malisrn,  that  has  not  bent 

*~s     f 

Its  aspects  for  the  parliament. 
Foreboding  your  defeat  and  misery, 
As  once  they  fought  against  old  Sisera  : 


*  Stories  of  prodigies  were  at  that  time  industriously  propa- 
gated by  the  Tories  in  various  parts  of  New-England,  and  with 
some  success  in  alarming  and  intimidating  the  superstitious. 
In  fact,  about  the  commencement  of  the  war,  a  large  meteor 
passed  through  our  atmosphere,  and  the  Aurora  borealis  ap- 
peared more  frequently,  and  assumed  more  singular  appear- 
ances, than  usual.  These  materials  were  sufficient  for  a  be- 
ginning ;  nonsense  easily  supplied  the  rest. 


M'FINGAL.  7.3 

Was  there  a  cloud,  that  spread  the  skies/ 

But  bore  our  armies  of  allies, 

While  dreadful  hosts  of  flame  stood  forth 

In  baleful  streamers  from  the  north  ? 

Which  plainly  show'd  what  part  they  join'd ; 

For  North's  the  minister,  ye  mind  ; 

Whence  oft  your  quibblers  in  gazettes 

On  Northern  blasts  have  strain'd  their  wits  ; 

And  think  you  not,  the  clouds  know  how 

To  make  the  pun,  as  well  you  ? 

Did  there  arise  an  apparition, 

4 

But  grinn'd  forth  ruin  to  sedition  ; 
A  death-watch,  but  has  join'd  our  leagues, 
And  click'd  destruction  to  the  Whigs  ? 
Heard  ye  not,  when  the  wind  was  fair. 
At  night  our  prophets  in  the  air, 
Who,  loud,  like  admiralty  libel, 
Read  awful  chapters  from  the  Bible, 
And  war  and  plague  and  death  denounced, 
And  told  you  how  you'd  soon  be  trounced  r 
I  see,  to  join  our  conq'ring  side, 
Heaven,  earth  and  hell  at  once  allied  ; 
See  from  your  overthrow  and  end. 

The  Tory  paradise  ascend, 
10 


74  M'FINGAL. 

Like  that  new  world,  which  claims  its  station. 

Beyond  the  final  conflagration. 

I  see  the  day,  that  lots  your  share 

In  utter  darkness  and  despair  ; 

The  day  of  joy,  when  North,  our  lord, 

His  faithful  fav'rites  shall  reward. 

No  Tory  then  shall  set  before  him 

Small  wish  of  'Squire  and  Justice  Quorum  ; 

But  to  his  unmistaken  eyes 

See  lordships,  posts  and  pensions  rise. 

"  Awake  to  gladness  then,  ye  Tories  ! 
Th'  unbounded  prospect  lies  before  us. 
The  power,  display'd  in  Gage's  banners, 
Shall  cut  their  fertile  lands  to  manors  ; 
And  o'er  our  happy  conquer'd  ground, 
Dispense  estates  and  titles  round. 
Behold  !  the  world  shall  stare  at  new  setts 
Of  home-made  Earls*  in  Massachusetts  ; 
Admire,  array'd  in  ducal  tassels, 
Your  Ol'vers,  Hutchinsons  and  Vassals  ; 


*  See  Hutchinson's  and  Oliver's  letters. 


M'FINGAL.  75 

See  join'd  in  ministerial  work 

His  Grace  of  Albany,  and  York. 

What  lordships  from  each  carved  estate. 

On  our  New-York  Assembly  wait ! 

What  titled  Jauncys,  Gales  and  Billops  ;* 

Lord  Brush,  Lord  Wilkins  and  Lord  Philips ! 

In  wide-sleeved  pomp  of  godly  guise, 
What  solemn  rows  of  Bishops  rise  ! 
Aloft  a  Cardinal's  hat  is  spread 
O'er  punster  Cooper's  reverend  head. 
In  Vardell,  that  poetic  zealot,f 
I  view  a  lawn-bedizen'd  Prelate ; 
While  mitres  fall,  as  'tis  their  duty, 
On  heads  of  Chandler  and  Auchmuty  ! 
Knights,  Viscounts,  Barons,  shall  ye  meet, 
As  thick  as  pebbles  in  the  street ; 


*  Members  of  the  ministerial  majority  in  the  Legislature  of 
New-York. 

f  Cooper,  President  of  King's  College  in  New- York,  was  a 
notorious  punster ;  Vardell,  author  of  some  poetical  satires 
on  the  sons  of  liberty  in  New- York  ;  Chandler  and  Auchmu- 
ty, high-church  and  tory  writers  of  the  clerical  order. 


76  M'FINGAL. 

E'en  I  perhaps  (heaven  speed  my  claim  !) 
Shall  fix  a  Sir  before  my  name. 
For  titles  all  our  foreheads  ache, 
For  what  blest  changes  can  they  make ! 
Place  Reverence,  Grace  and  Excellence, 
Where  neither  claim'd  the  least  pretence  5 
Transform  by  patent's  magic  words 
Men,  likest  devils,  into  Lords  ; 
Whence  commoners,  to  Peers  translated, 
Are  justly  said  to  be  created* 
Now  where  commissioners  you  saw, 
Shall  boards  of  nobles  deal  you  law ; 
Long-robed  comptrollers  judge  your  rights, 
And  tide-waiters  start  up  in  knights. 
While  Whigs  subdued,  in  slavish  awe, 
Our  wood  shall  hew,  our  water  draw, 
And  bless  the  mildness,  when  past  hope, 
That  saved  their  necks  from  noose  of  rope. 


*  "  To  create  a  Peer"  is  the  English  technical  phrase. — 
Considering  the  materials  frequently  made  use  of,  it  is  easy 
to  perceive  the  propriety  of  the  expression.  Thus  Adam 
was  formed  of  the  dust  of  the  ground.  Gen.  ii.  7. 


M'FINGAL.  77 

For  since  our  leaders  have  decreed, 
Their  blacks,  who  join  us,  shall  be  freed, 
To  hang  the  conquer'd  whigs,  we  all  see, 
Would  prove  but  weak,  and  thriftless  policy, 
Except  their  Chiefs  :  the  vulgar  knaves 
Will  do  more  good,  preserved  for  slaves." 

"  'Tis  well,"  Honorius  cried ;  "  your  scheme 
Has  painted  out  a  pretty  dream. 
We  can't  confute  your  second-sight ; 
We  shall  be  slaves  and  you  a  knight. 
These  things  must  come,  but  I  divine, 
They'll  come  not  in  your  day,  nor  mine. 

"  But,  oh  my  friends,  my  brethren,  hear ; 
And  turn  for  once  th'  attentive  ear. 
Ye  see  how  prompt  to  aid  our  woes 
The  tender  mercies  of  our  foes  ; 
Ye  see  with  what  unvaried  rancour 
Still  for  our  blood  their  minions  hanker  ; 
Nor  aught  can  sate  their  mad  ambition, 
From  us,  but  death,  or  worse,  submission. 
Shall  these  then  riot  in  our  spoil, 
Reap  the  glad  harvest  of  our  toil, 
Rise  from  their  country's  ruins  proud, 
And  roll  their  chariot-wheels  in  blood  r 


78  M'FINGAL. 

See  Gage,  with  inauspicious  star, 
Has  oped  the  gates  of  civil  war, 
When  streams  of  gore,  from  freemen  slain, 
Encrimson'd  Concord's  fatal  plain  ; 
Whose  warning  voice,  with  awful  sound, 
Still  cries,  like  Abel's,  from  the  ground  ; 
And  heaven,  attentive  to  its  call, 
Shall  doom  the  proud  oppressor's  fall. 
"  Rise  then,  ere  ruin  swift  surprize, 
To  victory,  to  vengeance,  rise. 
Hark,  how  the  distant  din  alarms : 
The  echoing  trumpet  breathes,  to  arms. 
From  provinces  remote  afar, 
The  sons  of  glory  rouse  to  war. 
'Tis  Freedom  calls  !  the  raptured  sound 
The  Apalachian  hills  rebound. 
The  Georgian*  coasts  her  voice  shall  hear, 
And  start  from  lethargies  of  fear. 
From  the  parch'd  zone,  with  glowing  ray 
Where  pours  the  sun  intenser  day, 
To  shores  where  icy  waters  roll, 
And  tremble  to  the  glimm'ring  pole, 

*  The  province  of  Georgia  had  not  then  joined  the  union. 


M'FINGAL.  79 

Inspired  by  freedom's  heavenly  charms, 
United  nations  wake  to  arms. 
The  star  of  conquest  lights  their  way, 
And  guides  their  vengeance  on  their  prey. 
Yes,  though  tyrannic  force  oppose, 
Still  shall  they  triumph  o'er  their  foes  ; 
Till  heaven  the  happy  land  shall  bless 
With  safety,  liberty  and  peace. 

"  And  ye,  whose  souls  of  dastard  mould 
Start  at  the  bravery  of  the  bold  ; 
To  love  your  country  who  pretend, 
Yet  want  all  spirit  to  defend  ; 
Who  feel  your  fancies  so  prolific, 
Engend'ring  visions  whims  terrific, 
O'errun  with  horrors  of  coercion, 
Fire,  blood  and  thunder  in  reversion  ; 
King's  standards,  pill'ries,  confiscations, 
And  Gage's  scare-crow  proclamations  ; 
Who  scarce  could  rouse,  if  caught  in  fray. 
Presence  of  mind  to  run  away  ; 
See  nought  but  halters  rise  to  view, 
In  all  your  dreams,  and  deem  them  true  ;• 
And  while  these  phantoms  haunt  your  brains. 
Bow  down  your  willing  necks  to  chains. 


80  IVTFINGAL. 

Heavens  !  are  ye  sons  of  sires  so  great, 
Immortal  in  the  fields  of  fate, 
Who  braved  all  deaths,  by  land  or  sea, 
Who  bled,  who  conquer'd,  to  be  free  ? 
Hence  coward  souls,  the  worst  disgrace 
Of  our  forefathers'  valiant  race  ; 
Hie  homeward  from  the  glorious  field, 
There  turn  the  wheel,  the  distaff  wield  ; 
Act  what  ye  are,  nor  dare  to  stain 
The  warrior's  arms  with  touch  profane ; 
There  beg  your  more  heroic  wives 
To  guard  your  own,  your  children's,  lives  ; 
Beneath  their  aprons  seek  a  screen, 
Nor  dare  to  mingle  more  with  men." 
As  thus  he  spake,  the  Tories'  anger 
Could  now  restrain  itself  no  longer ; 
Who  tried  before  by  many  a  freak,  or 
Insulting  noise,  to  stop  the  speaker ; 
Swung  th'  un-oil'd  hinge  of  each  pew-door. 
Their  feet  kept  shuffling  on  the  floor  ; 
Made  their  disapprobation  known 
By  many  a  murmur,  hum  and  groan, 
That  to  his  speech  supplied  the  place 
Of  counterpart  in  thorough  bass. 


M'FINGA-L.  81 

Thus  bagpipes,  while  the  tune  they  breathe, 

Still  drone  and  grumble  underneath  ; 

And  thus  the  famed  Demosthenes* 

Harangued  the  rumbling  of  the  seas, 

Held  forth  with  elocution  grave, 

To  audience  loud  of  wind  and  wave  ; 

And  had  a  stiller  congregation, 

Than  Tories  are,  to  hear  th'  oration. 

The  uproar  now  grew  high  and  louder, 

As  nearer  thund'rings  of  a  cloud  are, 

And  every  soul  with  heart  and  voice 

Supplied  his  quota  of  the  noise. 

Each  listening  ear  was  set  on  torture, 

Each  Tory  bellowing,  "  Order,  Order  ;" 

And  some,  with  tongue  not  low  or  weak, 

Were  clam'ring  fast,  for  leave  to  speak ; 

The  Moderator,  with  great  vi'lence, 

The  cushion  thump'd  with,  "  Silence,  Silence !" 

The  Constable  to  every  prater 

Bawl'd  out,  "  Pray  hear  the  moderator  ;" 


'*  Demosthenes,  the  Grecian  orator,  is  said  to  have  exercis- 
ed his  voice,  by  declaiming  to  the  waves  in  a  gale  ;  which 
party  made  the  most  noise,  history  does  not  inform  us. 
.  11 


o2  M'FINGAL. 

Some  call'd  the  vote,  and  some  in  turn 
Were  screaming  high,  "  Adjourn,  Adjourn." 
Not  Chaos  heard  such  jars  and  clashes, 
When  ail  the  el'ments  fought  for  places. 
The  storm  each  moment  fiercer  grew  ; 
His  sword  the  great  M'FINGAL  drew, 
Prepared  in  either  chance  to  share, 
To  keep  the  peace,  or  aid  the  war. 
Nor  lack'd  they  each  poetic  being, 
Whom  bards  alone  are  skill'd  in  seeing : 
Plumed  Victory  stood  perch'd  on  high. 
Upon  the  pulpit-canopy, 
To  join,  as  is  her  custom  tried, 
Like  Indians,  on  the  strongest  side  ; 
The  Destinies,  with  shears  and  distaff, 
Drew  near  their  threads  of  life  to  twist  off ; 
The  Furies  'gan  to  feast  on  blows, 
And  broken  head,  and  bloody  nose  : 
When  on  a  sudden  from  without 
Arose  a  loud  terrific  shout ; 
And  straight  the  people  all  at  once  heard 
Of  tongues  an  universal  concert : 
Like  jEsop's  times,  as  fable  runs, 
When  every  creature  talk'd  at  once. 


M'F 


83 


Or  like  the  variegated  gabble, 
That  crazed  the  carpenters  of  Babel. 
Each  party  soon  forsook  the  quarrel, 
And  let  the  other  go  on  parol, 
Eager  to  know  what  fearful  matter 
Had  conjured  up  such  general  clatter ; 
And  left  the  church  in  thin  array, 
As  though  it  had  been  lecture-day.* 
Our  'Squire  M'FINGAL  straitway  beckon'd 
The  Constable  to  stand  his  second ; 
And  sallied  forth  with  aspect  fierce 
The  crowd  assembled  to  disperse. 

The  Moderator,  out  of  view, 
.Beneath  the  desk  had  lain  perdue  ; 


*  In  the  New-England  churches,  previous  to  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  sacrament,  religious  service  was  performed,  and 
a  sermon  preached,  on  some  day  in  the  week  preceding. 
These  sermons  were  styled  Lectures,  and  the  day  called  Lec- 
ture-day. But  usually  these  meetings  were  very  thinly  attend- 
ed, like  the  Wall-lectures  in  the  English  Universities,  in  which 
to  supply  an  audience,  they  depend  on  the  proverb,  that 
Walls  have  ears.  See  V.  Knox's  Essays  JVb.  77. 


84  M'FINGAL. 

Peep'd  up  his  head  to  view  the  fray, 
Beheld  the  wranglers  run  away, 
And  left  alone,  with  solemn  face 
Adjourn'd  them  without  time  or  place. 


END  OF  CANTO  SECOND. 


M'FINGAL. 

CANTO  III. 

THE  LIBERTY  POLE. 


JN  OW  warm  with  ministerial  ire, 
Fierce  sallied  forth  our  loyal  'Squire, 
And  on  his  striding  steps  attends 
His  desperate  clan  of  Tory  friends. 
When  sudden  met  his  wrathful  eye 
A  pole  ascending  through  the  sky, 
Which  numerous  throngs  of  whiggish  race 
Were  raising  in  the  market-place. 
Not  higher  school-boy's  kites  aspire, 
Or  royal  mast,  or  country  spire  ; 
,    Like  spears  at  Brobdignagian  tilting, 
Or  Satan's  walking-staff  in  Milton. 
And  on  its  top,  the  flag  unfurl'd 
Waved  triumph  o'er  the  gazing  world, 
Inscribed  with  inconsistent  types 
Of  Liberty  and  thirteen  stripes* 

*  The  American   flag.      It  would   doubtless  be  wrong 


86  M'FINGAL. 

Beneath,  the  crowd  without  delay 
The  dedication-rites  essay, 
And  gladly  pay,  in  antient  fashion, 
The  ceremonies  of  libation  ; 
While  briskly  to  each  patriot  lip 
Walks  eager  round  the  inspiring  flip  :* 
Delicious  draught !  whose  powers  inherit 
The  quintessence  of  public  spirit ; 
Which  whoso  tastes,  perceives  his  mind 
To  nobler  politics  refined  ; 
Or  roused  to  martial  controversy, 
As  from  transforming  cups  of  Circe  ; 
Or  warm'd  with  Homer's  nectar'd  liquor, 
That  fill'd  the  veins  of  gods  with  ichor. 
At  hand  for  new  supplies  in  store, 
The  tavern  opes  its  friendly  door, 
Whence  to  and  fro  the  waiters  run, 
Like  bucket-men  at  fires  in  town. 


to  imagine  that  the  stripes  bear  any  allusion   to  the  slave 
trade. 

*  Flip,  a  liquor  composed  of  beer,  rum  and  sugar ;  the  corn- 
corn  treat  at  that  time  in  the  country  towns  of  New-England. 


M'FINGAL.  87 

Then  with  three  shouts  that  tore  the  sky, 

'Tis  consecrate  to  Liberty. 

To  guard  it  from  th'  attacks  of  Tories, 

A  grand  Committee  cull'd  of  four  is : 

Who  foremost  on  the  patriot  spot, 

Had  brought  the  flip,  and  paid  the  shot. 

By  this,  M'FINGAL  with  his  train 
Advanced  upon  th'  adjacent  plain, 
And  full  with  loyalty  possest, 
Pour'd  forth  the  zeal,  that  fired  his  breast. 

"  What  mad-brain'd  rebel  gave  commission. 
To  raise  this  May-pole  of  sedition  ? 
Like  Babel,  rear'd  by  bawling  throngs, 
With  like  confusion  too  of  tongues, 
To  point  at  heaven  and  summon  down 
The  thunders  of  the  British  crown  ? 
Say,  will  this  paltry  Pole  secure 
Your  forfeit  heads  from  Gage's  power  ? 
Attack'd  by  heroes  brave  and  crafty, 
Is  this  to  stand  your  ark  of  safety  ; 
Or  driven  by  Scottish  laird  and  laddie. 
Think  ye  to  rest  beneath  its  shadow  ? 
When  bombs,  like  fiery  serpents,  fly, 
And  balls  rush  hissing  through  the  sky. 


88  M'FINGAL. 

Will  this  vile  Pole,  devote  to  freedom. 
Save  like  the  Jewish  pole  in  Edom ; 
Or  like  the  brazen  snake  of  Moses, 
Cure  your  crackt  skulls  and  batter'd  noses  ? 

"  Ye  dupes  to  every  factious  rogue 
And  tavern-prating  demagogue, 
Whose  tongue  but  rings,  with  sound  more  full. 
On  th'  empty  drumhead  of  his  scull ; 
Behold  you  not  what  noisy  fools 
Use  you,  worse  simpletons,  for  tools  ? 
For  Liberty,  in  your  own  by-sense, 
Is  but  for  crimes  a  patent  license, 
To  break  of  law  th'  Egyptian  yoke, 
And  throw  the  world  in  common  stock ; 
Reduce  all  grievances  and  ills 
To  Magna  Charta  of  your  wills  ; 
Establish  cheats  and  frauds  and  nonsense, 
Framed  to  the  model  of  your  conscience ; 
Cry  justice  dowTn,  as  out  of  fashion, 
And  fix  its  scale  of  depreciation  ;* 


*  Alluding  to  the  depreciation  of  the  Continental  paper  mo- 
ney.    Congress   finally  ascertained  the  course  of  its  declen- 


M'FINGAL.  89 

Defy  all  creditors  to  trouble  ye, 

And  keep  new  years  of  Jewish  jubilee  ; 

Drive  judges  out,*  like  Aaron's  calves, 

By  jurisdiction  of  white  staves, 

And  make  the  bar  and  bench  and  steeple 

Submit  t'  our  Sovereign  Lord,  The  People  ; 

By  plunder  rise  to  power  and  glory, 

And  brand  all  property,  as  Tory  ;  • 

Expose  all  wares  to  lawful  seizures 

By  mobbers  or  monopolizers  ; 

Break  heads  and  windows  and  the  peace, 

For  your  own  interest  and  increase  ; 

Dispute  and  pray  and  fight  and  groan 

For  public  good,  and  mean  your  own  : 

Prevent  the  law  by  fierce  attacks 

From  quitting  scores  upon  your  backs ; 


sion  at  different  periods,  by  what  was  called,  A  Scale  of  De- 
preciation. 

*  On  the  commencement  of  the  war,  the  courts  of  justice 
were  every  where  shut  up.     In  some  instances,  the  judges 
were  forced  to  retire,  by  the  people,  who  assembled  in  mul- 
titudes, armed  with  white  staves. 
12 


90  M'FINGAL. 

Lay  your  old  dread,  the  gallows,  low, 

And  seize  the  stocks,  your  ancient  foe, 

And  turn  them  to  convenient  engines 

To  wreak  your  patriotic  vengeance  ; 

While  all,  your  rights  who  understand, 

Confess  them  in  their  owner's  hand  ; 

And  when  by  clamours  and  confusions, 

Your  freedom's  grown  a  public  nuisance, 

Cry  "  Liberty,"  with  powerful  yearning, 

As  he  does  "  Fire!"  whose  house  is  burning : 

Though  he  already  has  much  more 

Than  he  can  find  occasion  for. 

While  every  clown,  that  tills  the  plains, 

Though  bankrupt  in  estate  and  brains, 

By  this  new  light  transform'd  to  traitor. 

Forsakes  his  plough  to  turn  dictator, 

Starts  an  haranguing  chief  of  Whigs, 

And  drags  you  by  the  ears,  like  pigs. 

All  bluster,  arm'd  with  factious  licence. 

New-born  at  once  to  politicians. 

Each  leather-apron'd  dunce,  grown  wise, 

Presents  his  forward  face  t'  advise, 

And  tatter'd  legislators  meet, 

From  every  workshop  through  the  street. 


M'FINGAL.  91 

His  goose  the  tailor  finds  new  use  in, 
To  patch  and  turn  the  Constitution  ; 
The  blacksmith  comes  with  sledge  and  grate 
To  iron-bind  the  wheels  of  state  ; 
The  quack  forbears  his  patients'  souse, 
To  purge  the  Council  and  the  House  ; 
The  tinker  quits  his  moulds  and  doxies, 
To  cast  assembly-men  and  proxies. 
From  dunghills  deep  of  blackest  hue, 
Your  dirt-bred  patriots  spring  to  view, 
To  wealth  and  power  and  honors  rise, 
Like  new-wing'd  maggots  changed  to  flies, 
And  fluttering  round  in  higli  parade, 
Strut  in  the  robe,  or  gay  cockade. 
See  Arnold  quits,  for  ways  more  certain, 
His  bankrupt-perj'ries  for  his  fortune, 
Brews  rum  no  longer  in  his  store, 
Jockey  and  skipper  now  no  more, 
Forsakes  his  warehouses  and  docks, 
And  writs  of  slander  for  the  pox  ;* 


*  Arnold's  perjuries  at  the  time  of  his  pretended  bank- 
ruptcy, which  was  the  first  rise  of  his  fortune  ;  and  his  curi- 


92  M'FINGAL. 

And  cleansed  by  patriotism  from  shame, 
Grows  General  of  the  foremost  name. 
For  in  this  ferment  of  the  stream 
The  dregs  have  work'd  up  to  the  brim, 
And  by  the  rule  of  topsy-turvies, 
The  scum  stands  foaming  on  the  surface. 
You've  caused  your  pyramid  t'  ascend, 
And  set  it  on  the  little  end. 
Like  Hudibras,  your  empire's  made, 
Whose  crupper  had  o'ertopp'd  his  head. 
You've  push'd  and  turn'd  the  whole  world  up- 
Side  down,  and  got  yourselves  at  top, 
While  all  the  great  ones  of  your  state 
Are  crush'd  beneath  the  popular  weight ; 
Nor  can  you  boast,  this  present  hour, 
The  shadow  of  the  form  of  power. 
For  what's  your  Congress*  or  its  end  ? 
A  power,  t'  advise  and  recommend ; 


ous  lawsuit  against  a  brother  skipper,  who  had  charged  him 
with  having  caught  the  above-mentioned  disease,  by  his  con- 
nection with  a  certain  African  princess  in  the  West-Indies, 
were  among  the  early  promises  of  his  future  greatness,  and. 
honors. 

*  The  author  here,   in  a  true  strain  of  patriotic  censure, 


M'FINGAL.  93 

To  call  forth  troops,  adjust  your  quotas — 
And  yet  no  soul  is  bound  to  notice  ; 
To  pawn  your  faith  to  th'  utmost  limit, 
But  cannot  bind  you  to  redeem  it  ; 
And  when  in  want  no  more  in  them  lies, 
Than  begging  from  your  State-Assemblies  ; 
Can  utter  oracles  of  dread, 
Like  friar  Bacon's  brazen  head, 
But  when  a  faction  dares  dispute  'em, 
Has  ne'er  an  arm  to  execute  'em  : 
As  tho'  you  chose  supreme  dictators, 
And  put  them  under  conservators. 
You've  but  pursued  the  self-same  way 
With  Shakespeare's  Trinc'lo*  in  the  play  ; 


pointed  out  the  principal  defects  in  the  first  federal  constitti- 
tion  of  the  United  States  :  all  which  have  been  since  removed 
in  the  new  Constitution,  established  in  the  year  1789.  So 
that  the  prophecy  below,  You'll  ne'er  have  sense  enough  to 
mend  it,  must  be  ranked  among  the  other  sage  blunders  of  his 
second-sighted  hero.  Lond.  Edit. 

*  This  political  plan  of  Trinculo  in  the  Tempest,  may  be 
found  in  the  old  folio  edition  of  Shakespeare.  It  has  since 
been  expunged  by  some  of  his  wise  commentators. 


94  M'FIJSGAL. 

"  You  shall  be  Viceroys  here,  'tis  true, 

"  But  we'll  be  Viceroys  over  you." 

What  wild  confusion  hence  must  ensue  ? 

Tho'  common  danger  .yet  cements  you  : 

So  some  wreck'd  vessel,  all  in  shatters, 

Is  held  up  by  surrounding  waters, 

But  stranded,  when  the  pressure  ceases, 

Falls  by  its  rottenness  to  pieces. 

And  fall  it  must  !  if  wars  were  ended, 

You'll  ne'er  have  sense  enough  to  mend  it 

But  creeping  on,  by  low  intrigues, 

Like  vermin  of  a  thousand  legs,* 

'Twill  find  as  short  a  life  assign'd, 

As  all  things  else  of  reptile  kind. 

Your  Commonwealth's  a  common  harlot. 

The  property  of  every  varlet ; 

Which  now  in  taste,  and  full  employ, 

All  sorts  admire,  as  all  enjoy  : 

But  soon  a  batter'd  strumpet  grown, 

You'll  curse  and  drum  her  out  of  town. 


*  Millepedes. 


M'FINGAL.  95 

Such  is  the  government  you  chose  ; 
For  this  you  bade  the  world  be  foes ; 
For  this,  so  mark'd  for  dissolution, 
You  scorn  the  British  Constitution, 
That  constitution  form'd  by  sages, 
The  wonder  of  all  modern  ages ; 
Which  owns  no  failure  in  reality, 
Except  corruption  and  venality  ; 
And  merely  proves  the  adage  just, 
That  best  things  spoil'd  corrupt  to  worst : 
So  man  supreme  in  earthly  station, 
And  mighty  lord  of  this  creation, 
When  once  his  corse  is  dead  as  herring, 
Becomes  the  most  offensive  carrion, 
And  sooner  breeds  the  plague,  'tis  found, 
Than  all  beasts  rotting  on  the  ground. 
Yet  with  republics  to  dismay  us, 
You've  call'd  up  Anarchy  from  chaos, 
With  all  the  followers  of  her  school, 
Uproar  and  Rage  and  wild  Misrule : 
For  whom  this  rout  of  Whigs  distracted, 
And  ravings  dire  of  every  crack'd  head  : 
These  new-cast  legislative  engines 
Of  County-meetings  and  Conventions  : 


96  M'FINGAL. 

Committees  vile  of  correspondence, 
And  mobs,  whose  tricks  have  almost  undone  's  : 
While  reason  fails  to  check  your  course, 
And  Loyalty's  kick'd  out  of  doors, 
And  Folly,  like  inviting  landlord, 
Hoists  on  your  poles  her  royal  standard  ; 
While  the  king's  friends,  in  doleful  dumps, 
Have  worn  their  courage  to  the  stumps, 
And  leaving  George  in  sad  disaster, 
Most  sinfully  deny  their  master. 
What  furies  raged  when  you,  in  sea, 
In  shape  of  Indians,  drown'd  the  tea  ;* 
When  your  gay  sparks,  fatigued  to  watch  it, 
Assumed  the  moggison  and  hatchet, 
With  wampum'd  blankets  hid  their  laces, 
And  like  their  sweethearts,  primedf  their  faces : 


*  The  cargo  of  tea  sent  to  Boston,  alter  being  guarded  for 
twenty  nights,  by  voluntary  parties  of  the  Whigs,  to  prevent 
its  being  clandestinely  brought  ashore,  was  thrown  into  the 
sea,  by  a  party  of  about  two  hundred  young  men,  dressed, 
armed  and  painted  like  Indians ;  but  many  a  ruffled  shirt  and 
laced  vest  appeared  under  their  blankets. 

f  Primed,  i.  e.  painted. 


M'FINGAL.  97 

While  not  a  red-coat  dared  oppose, 
And  scarce  a  Tory  show'd  his  nose ; 
While  Hutchinson,*  for  sure  retreat, 
Manoeuvred  to  his  country  seat, 
And  thence  affrighted,  in  the  suds, 
Stole  off  bareheaded  through  the  woods. 

"  Have  you  not  roused  your  mobs  to  join, 
And  make  Mandamus-men  resign, 
Call'd  forth  each  duffil-drest  curmudgeon, 
With  dirty  trowsers  and  white  bludgeon. 


*  When  the  leading  Whigs  in  Boston  found  it  impossible  to 
procure  the  Tea  to  be  sent  back,  they  secretly  resolved  on  its 
destruction,  and  prepared  all  the  necessary  means.  To  cover 
the  design,  a  meeting  of  the  people  of  the  whole  County  was 
convened  on  the  day  appointed,  and  spent  their  time  in  grave 
consultation  on  the  question,  what  should  be  done  to  prevent 
its  being  landed  and  sold.  The  arrival  of  the  Indians  put  an 
end  to  the  debate,  at  the  moment,  when  one  of  the  foremost  of 
the  whig-orators  was  declaiming  against  all  violent  measures. 
Hutchinson  was  alarmed  at  the  meeting,  and  retired  privately 
in  the  morning,  to  his  country  seat  at  Milton.  Whether  from 
mistake  or  design,  information  was  sent  to  him,  that  the  mob 
was  coming  to  pull  down  his  house.  He  escaped  in  the  ut- 
most haste  across  the  fields.  The  story  of  the  day  was,  that 
the  alarm  was  given,  at  the  time,  when  he  sate  half-shaved 
under  the  hands  of  his  barber. 
If? 


98  M'FINGAL. 

Forced  all  our  Councils  through  the  land. 
To  yield  their  necks  at  your  command ; 
While  paleness  marks  their  late  disgraces, 
Through  all  their  rueful  length  of  faces  ? 

"  Have  you  not  caused  as  woeful  work 
In  our  good  city  of  New-York, 
When  all  the  rabble,  well  cockaded, 
In  triumph  through  the  streets  paraded, 
And  mobb'd  the  Tories,  scared  their  spouses. 
And  ransack'd  all  the  custom-houses  ;* 
Made  such  a  tumult,  bluster,  jarring, 
That  mid  the  clash  of  tempests  warring, 
Smith'sf  weather-cock,  in  veers  forlorn, 
Could  hardly  tell  which  way  to  turn  ? 
Burn'd  effigies  of  higher  powers, 
Contrived  in  planetary  hours  ; 
As  witches  with  clay-images 
Destroy  or  torture  whom  they  please  : 


*  The  custom-house  was  broken  open  at  New- York,  and 
all  public  monies  seized. 

f  William  Smith,  an  eminent  Lawyer  in  New- York.  He 
at  first  opposed  the  claims  of  Britain,  but  after  wavering  some 
time,  at  last  joined  our  enemy.  He  has  since  been  Chief  Jus- 
tice in  Canada. 


M'FINGAL.  99 

Till  fired  with  rage,  th'  ungrateful  club 
Spared  not  your  best  friend,  Beelzebub, 
O'erlook'd  his  favors,  and  forgot 
The  reverence  due  his  cloven  foot, 
And  in  the  selfsame  furnace  frying, 
Stew'd  him,  and  North  and  Bute  and  Tryon  ?* 
Did  you  not,  in  as  vile  and  shallow  way, 
Fright  our  poor  Philadelphian,  Galloway, 
Your  Congress,  when  the  loyal  ribald 
Belied,  berated  and  bescribbled  ? 
What  ropesf  and  halters  did  you  send, 
Terrific  emblems  of  his  end, 


*  Tryon  was  Governor  of  New- York  and  a  British  Gene- 
ral during  the  war.  He  had  the  glory  of  destroying  the  towns 
of  Fairfield  and  Norwalk.  -Burnings  in  effigy  were  frequent- 
ly the  amusements  of  the  mob  at  that  period,  and  in  imitation 
of  the  former  custom  of  the  English  in  burning  annually  the 
Pope,  the  Devil  and  the  Pretender,  Beelzebub,  with  his  usual 
figure  and  accoutrements,  was  always  joined  in  the  conflagra- 
tion with  the  other  obnoxious  characters. 

f  Galloway  began  by  being  a  flaming  patriot :  but  being 
disgusted  at  his  own  want  of  influence,  and  the  greater  popu- 
larity of  others,  he  turned  Tory,  wrote  against  the  measures  of 
Congress,  and  absconded.  Just  before  his  escape,  a  trunk 
was  put  on  board  a  vessel  in  the  Delaware,  to  be  delivered  to 


100  M'FINGAL. 

Till,  least  he'd  hang  in  more  than  effigy, 
Fled  in  a  fog  the  trembling  refugee  ? 
Now  rising  in  progression  fatal, 
Have  you  not  ventured  to  give  battle  ? 
When  Treason  chaced  our  heroes  troubled, 
With  rusty  gun,*  and  leathern  doublet ; 
Turn'd  all  stone-walls  and  groves  and  bushes, 
To  batteries  arm'd  with  blunderbusses  ; 
And  with  deep  wounds,  that  fate  portend, 
Gaul'd  many  a  Briton's  latter  end ; 
Drove  them  to  Boston,  as  in  jail, 
Confined  without  mainprize  or  bail. 
Were  not  these  deeds  enough  betimes, 
To  heap  the  measure  of  your  crimes  : 
But  in  this  loyal  town  and  dwelling, 
You  raise  these  ensigns  of  rebellion  ? 
'Tis  done  !  fair  Mercy  shuts  her  door  ; 
And  Vengeance  now  shall  sleep  no  more. 


Joseph  Galloway,  Esquire      On  opening  it,  he  found  it  con- 
tained only,  as  Shakespeare  says, 

"  A  halter  gratis,  and  leave  to  hang  himself." 
*  At  the  battle  of  Lexington. 


M'FINGAL.  101 

Rise  then,  my  friends,  in  terror  rise, 
And  sweep  this  scandal  from  the  skies. 
You'll  see  their  Dagon,  though  well  jointed, 
Will  shrink  before  the  Lord's  anointed  ;* 
And  like  old  Jericho's  proud  wall, 
Before  our  ram's  horns  prostrate  fall." 

This  said,  our  'Squire,  yet  undismay'd, 
Call'd  forth  the  Constable  to  aid, 
And  bade  him  read,  in  nearer  station, 
The  Riot-act  and  Proclamation. 
He  swift,  advancing  to  the  ring, 
Began,  "  Our  Sovereign  Lord,  the  King" — 
When  thousand  clam'rous  tongues  he  hears, 
And  clubs  and  stones  assail  his  ears. 
To  fly  was  vain  ;  to  fight  was  idle  ; 
By  foes  encompass'd  in  the  middle, 
His  hope,  in  stratagems,  he  found, 
And  fell  right  craftily  to  ground ; 
Then  crept  to  seek  an  hiding  place, 
'Twas  all  he  could,  beneath  a  brace  ; 


*  The  Tory  clergy  always  stiled  the  King,  the  Lord's 
Anointed.  The  language  of  Cromwell's  and  Charles'  days 
was  yet  frequent  in  New-England. 


102  M'FINGAL. 

Where  soon  the  conq'ring  crew  espied  him, 
And  where  he  lurk'd,  they  caught  and  tied  him. 

At  once  with  resolution  fatal, 
Both  Whigs  and  Tories  rush'd  to  battle. 
Instead  of  weapons,  either  band 
Seized  on  such  arms  as  came  to  hand. 
And  as  famed  Ovid*  paints  th'  adventures 
Of  wrangling  Lapithse  and  Centaurs, 
Who  at  their  feast,  by  Bacchus  led, 
Threw  bottles  at  each  other's  head ; 
And  these  arms  failing  in  their  scuffles, 
Attack'd  with  andirons,  tongs  and  shovels : 
So  clubs  and  billets,  staves  and  stones 
Met  fierce,  encountering  every  sconce, 
And  cover'd  o'er  with  knobs  and  pains 
Each  void  receptacle  for  brains  ; 
Their  clamours  rend  the  skies  around, 
The  hills  rebellow  to  the  sound ; 
And  many  a  groan  increas'd  the  din 
From  batter'd  nose  and  broken  shin. 


*  See  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  book  12th. 


M'FINGAL.  103 

M'FINGAL,  rising  at  the  word, 

Drew  forth  his  old  militia-sword  ; 

Thrice  cried  "  King  George,"  as  erst  in  distress, 

Knights  of  romance  invoked  a  mistress  ; 

And  brandishing  the  blade  in  air, 

Struck  terror  through  th'  opposing  war. 

The  Whigs,  unsafe  within  the  wind 

Of  such  commotion,  shrunk  behind. 

With  whirling  steel  around  address'd, 

Fierce  through  their  thickest  throng  he  press'd, 

(Who  roll'd  on  either  side  in  arch, 

Like  Red  Sea  waves  in  Israel's  march) 

And  like  a  meteor  rushing  through, 

Struck  on  their  Pole  a  vengeful  blow. 

Around,  the  Whigs,  of  clubs  and  stones 

Discharged  whole  vollies,  in  platoons, 

That  o'er  in  whistling  fury  fly  ; 

But  not  a  foe  dares  venture  nigh. 

And  now  perhaps  with  glory  crown'd 

Our  'Squire  had  fell'd  the  pole  to  ground, 

Had  not  some  Pow'r,  a  whig  at  heart, 

Descended  down  and  took  their  part  ;* 

*  The  learned  reader  will  readilv  observe  the  allusions  in 


104 

(Whether  'twere  Pallas,  Mars  or  Iris. 
'Tis  scarce  worth  while  to  make  inquiries) 
Who  at  the  nick  of  time  alarming, 
Assumed  the  solemn  form  of  Chairman. 
Address'd  a  Whig,  in  every  scene 
The  stoutest  wrestler  on  the  green, 
And  pointed  where  the  spade  was  found. 
Late  used  to  set  their  pole  in  ground, 
And  urged,  with  equal  arms  and  might, 
To  dare  our  'Squire  to  single  fight. 
The  Whig  thus  arm'd,  untaught  to  yield, 
Advanced  tremendous  to  the  field  : 
Nor  did  M'FINGAL  shun  the  foe, 
But  stood  to  brave  the  desp'rate  blow  ; 
While  all  the  party  gazed,  suspended 
To  see  the  deadly  combat  ended  ; 
And  Jove*  in  equal  balance  weigh'd 
The  sword  against  the  brandish'd  spade, 


this  scene,  to  the  single  combats  of  Paris  and  Menelaus  in  Ho- 
mer, jEneas  and  the  Turnus  in  Virgil,  and  Michael  and  Sa- 
tan in  Milton. 

*  Jupiter  ipse  duas  aequato  examine  lances 
Sustinet  &  fata  imponit  diversa  duorum, 
Quern  damnet  labor,  &c.  Mneld,  12. 


M'FINGAL.  105 

He  weigh'd  ;  but  lighter  than  a  dream, 

The  sword  flew  up,  and  kick'd  the  beam. 

Our  'Squire  on  tiptoe  rising  fair 

Lifts  high  a  noble  stroke  in  air, 

Which  hung  not,  but  like  dreadful  engines. 

Descended  on  his  foe  in  vengeance. 

But  ah  !  in  danger,  with  dishonor 

The  sword  perfidious  fails  its  owner  ; 

That  sword,  which  oft  had  stood  its  ground, 

By  huge  trainbands  encircled  round  ; 

And  on  the  bench,  with  blade  right  loyal, 

Had  won  the  day  at  many  a  trial,* 

Of  stones  and  clubs  had  braved  th'  alarms, 

Shrunk  from  these  new  Vulcanian  arms.f 


*  It  was  the  fashion  in  New-England  at  that  time,  for  judges 
to  wear  swords  on  the  bench. 

f  Postquam  arma  Dei  ad  Vulcania  ventum  est, 

Mortalis  mucro,  glacies  ceu  futilis,  ictu 

Dissiluit ;  fulva  resplendent  fragmina  arena.         Virgil. 


The  sword 

Was  given  him  temper'd  so,  that  neither  keen 
Nor  solid  might  resist  that  edge ;  it  met 
The  sword  of  Satan  with  steep  force  to  smite 
Descending  and  in  half  cut  sheer.         Milton. 
H 


IU6  M'FINGAL. 

The  spade  so  temper'd  from  the  sledge, 
Nor  keen  nor  solid  harm'd  its  edge, 
Now  met  it,  from  his  arm  of  might, 
Descending  with  steep  force  to  smite  ; 
The  blade  snapp'd  short— and  from  his  hand. 
With  rust  embrown'd  the  glittering  sand. 
Swift  turn'd  M'FINGAL  at  the  view, 
And  call'd  to  aid  th'  attendant  crew, 
In  vain  ;  the  Tories  ail  had  run, 
When  scarce  the  fight  was  well  begun  : 
Their  setting  wigs  he  saw  decreas'd 
Far  in  th'  horizon  tow'rd  the  west. 
Amazed  he  view'd  the  shameful  sight, 
And  saw  no  refuge,  but  in  flight : 
But  age  unwieldy  check'd  his  pace, 
Though  fear  had  wing'd  his  flying  race  : 
For  not  a  trifling  prize  at  stake  ; 
No  less  than  great  M'FINGAL'S  back.* 
With  legs  and  arms  he  work'd  his  course. 
Like  rider  that  outgoes  his  horse, 


-*  nee  enim  levia  aut  ludicra  petuntur 


Prsemia,  sed  Turni  de  vita  et  sanguine  certant.         Virgil. 


M'FINGAL.  107 

And  labor'd  liard  to  get  away,  as 

Old  Satan*  struggling  on  through  chaos  ; 

'Till  looking  back,  he  spied  in  rear 

The  spade-arm'd  chief  advanced  too  near  : 

Then  stopp'd  and  seized  a  stone,  that  lay 

An  ancient  landmark  near  the  way  ; 

Nor  shall  we  as  old  bards  have  done, 

Affirm  it  weigh'd  an  hundred  ton  ;t 

But  such  a  stone,  as  at  a  shift 

A  modern  might  suffice  to  lift, 

Since  men,  to  credit  their  enigmas, 

Are  dwindled  down  to  dwarfs  and  pigmies, 

And  giants  exiled  with  their  cronies 

To  Brobdignags  and  Patagonias. 

But  while  our  Hero  turn'd  him  round, 

And  tugg'd  to  raise  it  from  the  ground, 

The  fatal  spade  discharged  a  blow 

Tremendous  on  his  rear  below  : 

His  bent  knee  fail'd,t  and  void  of  strength 

Stretch'd  on  the  ground  his  manly  length. 


*  In  Milton. 

f  This  thought  is  taken  from  Juvenal,  Satire  15. 
|  Genua  labant  ---  incidit  ictus, 
Ihgens  ad  terram  duplicato  poplite  Turnus. 


108  M'FINGAL. 

Like  ancient  oak  o'erturn'd,  he  lay, 

Or  tower  to  tempests  fall'n  a  prey, 

Or  mountain  sunk  with  all  his  pines, 

Or  flow'r  the  plow  to  dust  consigns, 

And  more  things  else — but  all  men  know  'em, 

If  slightly  versed  in  epic  poem. 

At  once  the  crew,  at  this  dread  crisis, 

Fall  on,  and  bind  him,  ere  he  rises  ; 

And  with  loud  shouts  and  joyful  soul, 

Conduct  him  prisoner  to  the  pole. 

When  now  the  mob  in  lucky  hour 

Had  got  their  en'mies  in  their  power, 

They  first  proceed,  by  grave  command, 

To  take  the  Constable  in  hand. 

Then  from  the  pole's  sublimest  top 

The  active  crew  let  down  the  rope, 

At  once  its  other  end  in  haste  bind, 

And  make  it  fast  upon  his  waistband ; 

Till  like  the  earth,  as  stretch'd  on  tenter, 

He  hung  self-balanced  on  his  centre.* 


*  And  earth  sell-balanced  on  her  centre  hung.         Milton. 


M'FINGAL.  109 

Then  upwards,  all  hands  hoisting  sail, 

They  swung  him,  like  a  keg  of  ale, 

Till  to  the  pinnacle  in  height 

He  vaulted,  like  balloon  or  kite. 

As  Socrates*  of  old  at  first  did 

To  aid  philosophy  get  hoisted, 

And  found  his  thoughts  flow  strangely  clear, 

Swung  in  a  basket  in  mid  air : 

Our  culprit  thus,  in  purer  sky, 

With  like  advantage  raised  his  eye, 

And  looking  forth  in  prospect  wide, 

His  Tory  errors  clearly  spied, 

And  from  his  elevated  station, 

With  bawling  voice  began  addressing. 

"  Good  Gentlemen  arid  friends  and  kin, 
For  heaven's  sake  hear,  if  not  for  mine  ! 
I  here  renounce  the  Pope,  the  Turks, 
The  King,  the  Devil  and  all  their  works  ; 
And  will,  set  me  but  once  at  ease, 
Turn  Whig  or  Christian,  what  you  please  ; 


*  In  Aristophanes'  Comedy  of  the  Clouds,  Socrates  is  repre- 
sented as  hoisted  in  a  basket  to  aid  contemplation. 


110  M'FIKGAL. 

And  always  mind  your  rules  so  justly, 
Should  I  live  long  as  old  Methus'lah, 
I'll  never  join  in  British  rage, 
Nor  help  Lord  North,  nor  Gen'ral  Gage  ; 
Nor  lift  my  gun  in  future  fights, 
Nor  take  away  your  Charter-rights  ; 
Nor  overcome  your  new-raised  levies, 
Destroy  your  towns,  nor  burn  your  navies ; 
Nor  cut  your  poles  down  while  I've  breath, 
Though  raised  more  thick  than  hatchel-teeth : 
But  leave  King  George  and  all  his  elves 
To  do  their  conq'ring  work  themselves." 

This  said,  they  lower'd  him  down  in  state, 
Spread  at  all  points,  like  falling  cat ; 
But  took  a  vote  first  on  the  question, 
That  they'd  accept  this  full  confession, 
And  to  their  fellowship  and  favor, 
Restore  him  on  his  good  behaviour. 

Not  so  our  'Squire  submits  to  rule, 
But  stood,  heroic  as  a  mule. 
"  You'll  find  it  all  in  vain,  quoth  he, 
To  play  your  rebel  tricks  on  me. 
All  punishments,  the  world  can  render. 
Serve  only  to  provoke  th'  offender ; 


M'FINGAL.  Ill 

The  will  gains  strength  from  treatment  horrid, 

As  hides  grow  harder  when  they're  curried. 

No  man  e'er  felt  the  halter  draw, 

With  good  opinion  of  the  law  ; 

Or  held  in  method  orthodox 

His  love  of  justice,  in  the  stocks  ; 

Or  fail'd  to  lose  by  sheriff's  shears 

At  once  his  loyalty  and  ears. 

Have  you  made  Murray*  look  less  big, 

Or  smoked  old  Williams*  to  a  Whig  ? 

Did  our  mobb'd  Ol'verf  quit  his  station, 

Or  heed  his  vows  of  resignation  ? 

Has  Rivington,t  in  dread  of  stripes, 

Ceased  lying  since  you  stole  his  types  r 


*  Members  of  the  Mandamus  Council  in  Massachusetts. 
The  operation  of  smoking  Tories  was  thus  performed.  The 
victim  was  confined  in  a  close  room  before  a  large  fire  of  green 
wood,  and  a  cover  applied  to  the  top  of  the  chimney. 

f  Thomas  Oliver,  Esq.  Lieut.  Governor  of  Massachusetts. 
He  was  surrounded  at  his  seat  in  the  country  and  intimidated 
by  the  mob  into  the  signing  of  his  resignation. 

f  Rivington  was  a  tory  Printer  in  New- York.  Just  before 
the  commencement  of  the  war,  a  party  from  New-Haven  at- 
tackod  his  press,  and  carried  off,  or  destroyed  the  types. 


112  M'FINGAL. 

And  can  you  think  my  faith  will  alter, 

By  tarring,  whipping  or  the  halter  ? 

I'll  stand  the  worst  j  for  recompense 

1  trust  King  George  and  Providence. 

And  when  with  conquest  gain'd  I  come, 

Array'd  in  law  and  terror  home, 

Ye'll  rue  this  inauspicious  morn, 

And  curse  the  day,  when  ye  were  born, 

In  Job's  high  style  of  imprecations, 

With  all  his  plagues,  without  his  patience." 

Meanwhile  beside  the  pole,  the  guard 
A  Bench  of  Justice  had  prepared,* 
Where  sitting  round  in  awful  sort 
The  grand  Committee  hold  their  Court ; 
While  all  the  crew,  in  silent  awe, 
Wait  from  their  lips  the  lore  of  law. 
Few  moments  with  deliberation 
They  hold  the  solemn  consultation  ; 
When  soon  in  judgment  all  agree, 
And  Clerk  proclaims  the  dread  decree  ; 


*  An  imitation  of  legal  forms  was  universally  practised  by 
the  mobs  in  New-England,  in  the  trial  and  condemnation  of 
Tories.  This  marks  a  curious  trait  of  national  character. 


YOU'LL      RUE    THIS     INAUSPICIOUS      MOKN 
AN-D      CURSE      THE      DAY    YOU      E'ER    V7EBI     BORN. 


M'FINGAL.  113 

"  That  'Squire  M^FINGAL  having  grown 

The  vilest  Tory  in  the  town, 

And  now  in  full  examination 

Convicted  by  his  own  confession, 

Finding  no  tokens  of  repentance, 

This  Court  proceeds  to  render  sentence  : 

That  first  the  Mob  a  slip-knot  single 

Tie  round  the  neck  of  said  M'FINGAL, 

And  in  due  form  do  tar  him  next, 

And  feather,  as  the  law  directs ; 

Then  through  the  town  attendant  ride  him 

In  cart  with  Constable  beside  him, 

And  having  held  him  up  to  shame, 

Bring  to  the  pole,  from  whence  he  came." 

Forthwith  the  crowd  proceed  to  deck 
With  halter'd  noose  M'FINGAL'S  neck. 
While  he  in  peril  of  his  soul 
Stood  tied  half-hanging  to  the  pole  : 
Then  lifting  high  the  ponderous  jar, 
Pour'd  o'er  his  head  the  smoaking  tar. 
With  less  profusion  once  was  spread 
Oil  on  the  Jewish  monarch's  head, 
That  down  his  beard  and  vestments  ran, 
And  cover'd  all  his  outward  man. 

15 


114  M'FINGAL. 

As  when  (so  Claudian*  sings)  the  Gods 

And  earth-born  Giants  fell  at  odds, 

The  stout  Enceladus  in  malice 

Tore  mountains  up  to  throw  at  Pallas  ; 

And  while  he  held  them  o'er  his  head, 

The  river,  from  their  fountains  fed, 

Pour'd  down  his  back  its  copious  tide, 

And  wore  its  channels  in  his  hide  : 

So  from  the  high-raised  urn  the  torrents 

Spread  down  his  side  their  various  currents  ; 

His  flowing  wig,  as  next  the  brim, 

First  met  and  drank  the  sable  stream  ; 

Adown  his  visage  stern  and  grave 

Roll'd  and  adhered  the  viscid  wave  : 

With  arms  depending  as  he  stood, 

Each  cuff  capacious  holds  the  flood  : 

From  nose  and  chin's  remotest  end, 

The  tarry  icicles  descend  ; 

Till  all  o'erspread,  with  colors  gay. 

He  glitter'd  to  the  western  ray. 


*  Claudian's  Gigantomachia. 


M'FINGAL.  115 

Like  sleet- bound  trees  in  wintry  skies, 
Or  Lapland  idol  carved  in  ice. 
And  now  the  feather-bag  display'd 
Is  waved  in  triumph  o'er  his  head, 
And  clouds  him  o'er  with  feathers  missive, 
And  down,  upon  the  tar,  adhesive  : 
Not  Maia's*  son,  with  wings  for  ears, 
Such  plumage  round  his  visage  wears  ; 
Nor  Milton's  six-wing'df  angel  gathers 
Such  superfluity  of  feathers.  > 

Now  all  complete  appears  our  'Squire, 
Like  Gorgon  or  Chimaera  dire  ; 
Nor  more  could  boast  on  Plato's!  plan 
To  rank  among  the  race  of  man, 
Or  prove  his  claim  to  human  nature, 
As  a  two-legg'd,  unfeather'd  creature. 

Then  on  the  fatal  cart,  in  state 
They  raised  our  grand  Duumvirate. 


*  Mercury,  described  by  the  Poets  with  wings  on  his  head 
and  feet. 

f  And  angel  wing'd — six  wings  he  wore —          Milton. 

|  Alluding  to  Plato's  famous  definition  of  Man,  Animal 
bipes  implume — a  two-legged  animal  without  feathers. 


116  M'FINGAL. 

And  as  at  Rome*  a  like  committee. 
Who  found  an  owl  within  their  city, 
With  solemn  rites  and  grave  processions 
At  every  shrine  perforni'd  lustrations ; 
And  least  infection  might  take  place 
From  such  grim  fowl  with  feather'd  face, 
All  Rome  attends  him  through  the  street 
In  triumph  to  his  country  seat : 
With  like  devotion  all  the  choir 
Paraded  round  our  awful  'Squire  ; 
In  front  the  martial  music  comes 
Of  horns  and  fiddles,  fifes  and  drums, 
With  jingling  sound  of  carriage  bells, 
And  treble  creak  of  rusted  wheels. 
Behind,  the  croud,  in  lengthen'd  row 
With  proud  procession,  closed  the  show. 
And  at  fit  periods  every  throat 
Combined  in  universal  shout ; 
And  hail'd  great  Liberty  in  chorus, 
Or  bawl'd  '  confusion  to  the  Tories.' 
Not  louder  storm  the  welkin  braves 
From  clamors  of  conflicting  waves  : 

*  Livy's  History. 


M'FINGAL.  117 

Less  dire  in  Lybian  wilds  the  noise 
When  rav'ning  lions  lift  their  voice  ; 
Or  triumphs  at  town-meetings  made, 
On  passing  votes  to  regulate  trade.* 

Thus  having  borne  them  round  the  town, 
Last  at  the  pole  they  set  them  down ; 
And  to  the  tavern  take  their  way 
To  end  in  mirth  the  festal  day. 

And  now  the  Mob,  dispersed  and  gone, 
Left  'Squire  and  Constable  alone. 
The  constable  with  rueful  face 
Lean'd  sad  and  solemn  o'er  a  brace  : 
And  fast  beside  him,  cheek  by  jowl, 
Stuck  'Squire  M'FINGAL  'gainst  the  pole, 
Glued  by  the  tar  t'  his  rear  applied, 
Like  barnacle  on  vessel's  side. 
But  though  his  body  lack'd  physician, 
His  spirit  was  in  worse  condition. 
He  found  his  fears  of  whips  and  ropes 
By  many  a  drachm  outweigh'd  his  hopes. 


*  Such  votes  were  frequently  passed  at  town-meetings,  with 
the  view  to  prevent  the  augmentation  of  prices,  and  stop  the 
depreciation  of  the  paper  money. 


118  M'FIISGAL. 

As  men  in  jail  without  mainprize 

View  every  thing  with  other  eyes, 

And  all  goes  wrong  in  church  and  state, 

Seen  through  perspective  of  the  grate  : 

So  now  M'FINGAL'S  Second-sight 

Beheld  all  things  in  gloomier  light ; 

His  visual  nerve,  well  purged  with  tar, 

Saw  all  the  coming  scenes  of  war. 

As  his  prophetic  soul  grew  stronger, 

He  found  he  could  hold  in  no  longer. 

First  from  the  pole,  as  fierce  he  shook, 

His  wig  from  pitchy  durance  broke, 

His  mouth  unglued,  his  feathers  flutter'd, 

His  tarr'd  skirts  crack'd,  and  thus  he  utter'd. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Constable,  in  vain 
We  strive  'gainst  wind  and  tide  and  rain ! 
Behold  my  doom  !  this  feathery  omen 
Portends  what  dismal  times  are  coming. 
Now  future  scenes,  before  my  eyes, 
And  second-sighted  forms  arise. 
I  hear  a  voice,*  that  calls  away, 
And  cries  i  The  Whigs  will  win  the  day.' 

*  I  hear  a  voice,  you  cannot  hear, 
That  says,  I  must  not  stay —         TickeWs  Ballad. 


M'FINGAL.  119 

My  beck'ning  Genius  gives  command. 
And  bids  me  fly  the  fatal  land  ; 
Where  changing  name  and  constitution, 
Rebellion  turns  to  Revolution, 
While  Loyalty,  oppress'd,  in  tears, 
Stands  trembling  for  its  neck  and  ears. 

"  Go,  summon  all  our  brethren,  greeting, 
To  muster  at  our  usual  meeting ; 
There  my  prophetic  voice  shall  warn  'em 
Of  all  things  future  that  concern  'em, 
And  scenes  disclose  on  which,  my  friend, 
Their  conduct  and  their  lives  depend. 
There  I* — but  first  'tis  more  of  use, 
From  this  vile  pole  to  set  me  loose  ; 
Then  go  with  cautious  steps  and  steady, 
While  I  steer  home  and  make  all  ready. 


x  Quos  Ego — sed  motos  praestat  coraponere  fluctus. 

VirglL 


F,ND  OF  CANTO  THIRD. 


M'FINGAL. 

CANTO  IV. 
THE  VISION. 


JN  O W  Night  came  down,  and  rose  full  soon 
That  patroness  of  rogues,  the  Moon  ; 
Beneath  whose  kind  protecting  ray, 
Wolves,  brute  and  human,  prowl  for  prey. 
The  honest  world  all  snored  in  chorus, 
While  owls  and  ghosts  and  thieves  and  Tories, 
Whom  erst  the  mid-day  sun  had  awed, 
Crept  from  their  lurking  holes  abroad. 
On  cautious  hinges,  slow  and  stiller, 
Wide  oped  the  great  M'FINGAL'S  cellar,* 
Where  safe  from  prying  eyes,  in  cluster. 
The  Tory  Pandemonium  muster. 


*  Secret  meetings  of  the  Tories,  in  cellars  and  other  lurking 
places,  were  frequent  during  the  revolutionary  war. 
16 


M'FIiNGAL. 

Their  chiefs  all  sitting  round  descried  are, 
On  kegs  of  ale  and  seats  of  cider  ;* 
When  first  M'FINGAL,  dimly  seen, 
Rose  solemn  from  the  turnip-bin.f 
Nor  yet  his  form  had  wholly  lost 
Th'  original  brightness  it  could  boast,! 
Nor  less  appear'd  than  Justice  Quorum, 
In  feather'd  majesty  before  'em. 
Adown  his  tar-streak'd  visage,  clear 
Fell  glistening  fast  th'  indignant  tear, 
And  thus  his  voice,  in  mournful  wise, 
Pursued  the  prologue  of  his  sighs. 

"  Brethren  and  friends,  the  glorious  band 
Of  loyalty  in  rebel  land ! 


*  Panditur  interea  domus  omnipotentis  Olympi, 
Conciliumque  vocat  Divum  pater  atq ;  hominum  Rex 
Sideream  in  sedem.          Virgil. 

f  In  most  of  the  country  cellars  in  New-England,  a  bin  is 
raised  at  one  corner,  about  four  feet  high,  to  hold  turnips  and 
other  vegetables.  M'Fingal  uses  it  here  as  a  desk  for  a 
speaker. 

J  His  form  had  not  yet  lost 

All  its  original  brightness,  nor  appear'd 
Less  than  archangel  ruin'd.         Milton. 


I 


AX.AE!    AGAINST      MY     BBTTEB.     I.IQHT 
AND     OPTIOB      SURE      OF     SB  GOUT)      8IOHT, 
MY      STUBBORN     SOtTL,   IN;BB.B-OR       STB.ONG, 


HAU    FAITH    IK    H.TT  T  CHIN  SON     TOO    LONG 


C» 


BY     SAM-TOBl,    a 


M'FINGAL. 

It  was  not  thus  you've  seen  me  sitting, 
Return'd  in  triumph  from  town-meeting ; 
When  blust'ring  Whigs  were  put  to  stand, 
And  votes  obey'd  my  guiding  hand, 
And  new  commissions  pleased  my  eyes ; 
Blest  days,  but  ah,  no  more  to  rise  ! 
Alas,  against  my  better  light, 
And  optics  sure  of  second-sight,* 
My  stubborn  soul,  in  error  strong, 
Had  faith  in  Hutchinson  too  Ions:. 

*-S 

See  what  brave  trophies  still  we  bring 
From  all  our  battles  for  the  king ; 
And  yet  these  plagues,  now  past  before  us, 
Are  but  our  entering  wedge  of  sorrows  ! 
"  I  see,  in  glooms  tempestuous,  stand 
The  cloud  impending  o'er  the  land  ; 
That  cloud,  which  still  beyond  their  hopes 
Serves  all  our  orators  with  tropes  ; 
Which,  though  from  our  own  vapors  fed, 
Shall  point  its  thunders  on  our  head ! 


*  The  second-sight  of  the  Highlanders  furnishes  poetry  witji 
a  new  kind  of  machinery.  Walter  Scott  has  since  made  use 
of  it  with  great  advantage,  in  several  of  his  poems. 


124  M'FINGAL. 

I  see  the  Mob,  beflipp'd  at  taverns, 

Hunt  us, like  wolves,  through  wilds  and  caverns! 

What  dungeons  open  on  our  fears  ! 

What  horsewhips  whistle  round  our  ears  ! 

Tar,  yet  in  embryo  in  the  pine, 

Shall  run  on  Tories'  backs  to  shine ; 

Trees,  rooted  fair  in  groves  of  sallows, 

Are  growing  for  our  future  gallows  ; 

And  geese  unhatch'd,  when  pluck'd  in  fray, 

Shall  rue  the  feathering  of  that  day.* 

"  For  me,  before* that  fatal  time, 
1  mean  to  fly  th'  accursed  clime, 
And  follow  omens,  which  of  late 
Have  warn'd  me  of  impending  fate. 

"  For  late  in  visions  of  the  night 
The  gallows  stood  before  my  sight ; 
I  saw  its  ladder  heaved  on  end  ; 
I  saw  the  deadly  rope  descend, 
And  in  its  noose,  that  wavering  swang, 
Friend  Malcolrnf  hung,  or  seem'd  to  hang. 


*  The  child  shall  rue,  that  is  unborn, 

The  hunting  of  that  day.         Chevy-chase. 
f  Malcolm  was  a  Scotchman,  Aid   to  Governor  Tryon  in 


M'FINGAL.  125 

How  changed*  from  him,  who  bold  as  lion, 

Stood  Aid-de-camp  to  Gen'ral  Tryon, 

Made  rebels  vanish  once,  like  witches, 

And  saved  his  life,  but  dropp'df  his  breeches. 

I  scarce  had  made  a  fearful  bow, 

And  trembling  ask'd  him,  "  How  d'ye  do ;" 


his  expedition  against  the  Regulators,  as  they  called  them- 
selves, in  North  Carolina.  He  was  afterwards  an  under-offi- 
cer  of  the  Customs  in  Boston,  where  becoming  obnoxious,  he 
was  tarred,  feathered  and  half-hanged  by  the  mob,  about  the 
year  1774. 

* quantum  mutatus  ab  illo 

Hectore,  qui  rediit  spoliis  indutus.  Virg. 

f  This  adventure  was  thus  reported  among  the  anecdotes 
of  the  day.  When  Governor  Tryon  marched  with  his  mili- 
tia, to  suppress  the  insurgents  in  the  western  counties  of 
North  Carolina,  and  found  them,  drawn  up  in  array  to  oppose 
him,  Malcolm  was  sent  with  a  flag  to  propose  terms,  and  de- 
mand the  surrender  of  their  arms.  Before  the  conclusion  of 
the  parley,  Tryon's  militia  began  to  fire  on  the  Regulators. 
The  fire  was  immediately  returned.  Malcolm  started  to  es- 
cape to  his  party  ;  and  by  the  violence  of  his  pedestrian  exer- 
tion (as  Shakespeare  says) 

"  His  points  being  broken,  down  fell  his  hose  ;" 
and  he  displayed  the  novel  spectacle  of  a  man  running  the 
gauntlet  sans  culottes,  betwixt  two  armies  engaged  in  action, 
and  presenting  an  unusual  mark  to  his  enemy. 


126 


M'FINGAL. 


When  lifting  up  his  eyes  so  wide, 
His  eyes  alone,  his  hands  were  tied ; 
With  feeble  voice,  as  spirits  use, 
Now  almost  choak'd  by  gripe  of  noose  ; 

c'  Ah,  fly  my  friend,  he  cried,  escape, 
And  keep  yourself  from  this  sad  scrape ; 
Enough  you've  talk'd  and  writ  and  plann'd  : 
The  Whigs  have  got  the  upper  hand. 
Could  mortal*  arm  our  fears  have  ended, 
This  arm  (and  shook  it)  had  defended. 
Wait  not  till  things  grow  desperater, 
For  hanging  is  no  laughing  matter. 
Adventure  then  no  longer  stay ; 
But  call  your  friends  and  haste  away. 

"  For  lo,  through  deepest  glooms  of  night^ 
I  come  to  aid  thy  second-sight, 
Disclose  the  plagues  that  round  us  wait, 
And  scan  the  dark  decrees  of  fate. 

"  Ascend  this  ladder,  whence  unfurl'd 
The  curtain  opes  of  t'other  world  ; 


* Si  Pergaraa  dextra 

D«fendi  possent,  etiam  hac  defenSa  fuissent.  Virg. 


M'FINGAL.  127 

For  here  new  worlds  their  scenes  unfold. 
Seen  from  this  backdoor*  of  the  old. 
4s  when  ^Eneas  risk'd  his  life, 
Like  Orpheus  vent'ring  for  his  wife, 
And  bore  in  show  his  mortal  carcase 
Through  realms  of  Erebus  and  Orcus, 
Then  in  the  happy  fields  Elysian, 
Saw  all  his  embryon  sons  in  vision  ; 
As  shown  by  great  Archangel,  Michael, 
Old  Adamf  saw  the  world's  whole  sequel, 
And  from  the  mount's  extended  space, 
The  rising  fortunes  of  his  race  : 
So  from  this  stage  shalt  thou  behold 
The  war  its  coming  scenes  unfold, 
Raised  by  my  arm  to  meet  thine  eye  ; 
My  Adam,  thou  ;  thine  Angel,  I. 

But  first  my  pow'r,  for  visions  bright, 
Must  cleanse  from  clouds  thy  mental  sight, 
Remove  the  dim  suffusions  spread, 
Which  bribes  and  salaries  there  have  bred  ; 


*  Leaving  the  old,  both  worlds  at  once  they  view, 
Who  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  the  new.          Waller. 
f  Milton — Paradise  Lost,  Book  1 1 . 

l  ^  r«  JXTK 


128  M'FINGAL. 

And  from  the  well  of  Bute  infuse 
Three  genuine  drops  of  Highland  dews, 
To  purge,  like  euphrasy*  and  rue, 
Thine  eyes,  for  much  thou  hast  to  view. 

Now  freed  from  Tory  darkness,  raise 
Thy  head  and  spy  the  coming  days. 
For  lo,  before  our  second-sight, 
The  Continent  ascends  in  light. 
From  north  to  south,  what  gath'ring  swarms 
Increase  the  pride  of  rebel  arms  ! 
Through  every  State  our  legions  brave 
Speed  gallant  marches  to  the  grave, 
Of  battling  Whigs  the  frequent  prize, 
While  rebel  trophies  stain  the  skies. 
Behold  o'er  northern  realms  afar 
Extend  the  kindling  flames  of  war  ! 
See  famed  St.  John's  and  Montreaif 
Doom'd  by  Montgomery's  arm  to  fall ! 


*  Milton. 

f  As  the  allusions  in  this  speech  refer  to  the  principal 
events  of  the  American  war,  they  will  be  familiar  to  those  ac- 
quainted with  its  history.  They  are  too  numerous  to  be  ex- 
plained in  notes. 


M'FINGAL.  129 

Where  Hudson  with  majestic  sway 
Through  hills  disparted  plows  his  way. 
Fate  spreads  on  Bern  us'  heights  alarms, 
And  pours  destruction  on  our  arms ; 
There  Bennington's  ensanguined  plain, 
And  Stony-Point,  the  prize  of  Wayne. 
Behold  near  Del'ware's  icy  roar, 
Where  morning  dawns  on  Trenton's  shore, 
While  Hessians  spread  their  Christmas  feasts, 
Rush  rude  these  uninvited  guests  ; 
Nor  aught  avails  the  captured  crew 
Their  martial  whiskers'  grisly  hue  ! 
On  Princeton  plains  our  heroes  yield, 
And  spread  in  flight  the  vanquish'd  field ; 
While  fear  to  Mawhood's*  heels  puts  on 
Wings,  wide  as  worn  by  Maia's  son. 
Behold  the  Pennsylvanian  shore 
Enrich'd  with  streams  of  British  gore ; 


*  Col.  Mawhood  gained  great  reputation  among  the  British, 
by  escaping  with  about  two  hundred  men  from  the  battle  at 
Princeton. 

17 


130  M'FINGAL. 

Where  many  a  veteran  chief  in  bed 
Of  honor  rests  his  slumbering  head,* 
And  in  soft  vales,  in  land  of  foes, 
Their  wearied  virtue  finds  repose  ! 
See  plund'ring  Dunmore'sf  negro  band 
Fly  headlong  from  Virginia's  strand ; 
And  far  on  southern  hills  our  cousins, 
The  Scotch  M'Donalds,  fall  by  dozens ; 
Or  where  King's  Mountain  lifts  its  head. 
Our  ruin'd  bands  in  triumph  led ! 
Behold,  o'er  Tarlton's  blustring  train 
Defeat  extends  the  captive  chain ! 
Afar  near  Eutaw's  fatal  springs, 
Lo,  rebel  Vict'ry  spreads  her  wings  ! 
Through  all  the  land,  in  varied  chace, 
We  hunt  the  rainbow  of  success, 


Have  ye  chos'n  this  place. 


After  the  toils  of  battle,  to  repose 

Your  wearied  virtue  ;  for  the  ease  ye  find 

To  slumber  here,  as  in  the  vales  of  heaven  ?         Milton. 

f  Lord  Dunmore  was  Governor  of  Virginia  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  war.  He  fled  with  all  the  slaves  and  plun- 
der he  could  collect. 


M'FINGAL.  131 

In  vain  !  their  Chief,  superior  still, 
Eludes  our  force  with  Fabian  skill ; 
Or  swift  descending  by  surprize, 
Like  Prussia's  eagle,  sweeps  the  prize. 

"  I  look'd  ;  nor  yet,  oppress'd  with  fears, 
Gave  credit  to  my  eyes  or  ears  ; 
But  held  the  sights  an  empty  dream, 
On  Berkley's*  immaterial  scheme  ; 
And  pond'ring  sad  with  troubled  breast, 
At  length  my  rising  doubts  express'd. 
4  Ah,  whither  thus,  by  rebels  smitten, 
Is  fled  th'  omnipotence  of  Britain ; 
Or  fail'd  its  usual  guard  to  keep, 
Absent  from  home  or  fast  asleep  ? 
Did  not,  retired  to  bowers  Elysian, 
Great  Mars  leave  with  her  his  commission, 
And  Neptune  erst,  in  treaty  free, 
Give  up  dominion  o'er  the  sea  ? 
Else  where's  the  faith  of  famed  orations,f 
Address,  debate  and  proclamations, 


*  Berkley,  an  English  philosopher,  who  refining  on  Locke's 
ideal  system,  denied  the  existence  of  matter. 

f  In  this  stile,  the  British  orators  and  poets  talk  and  write 
of  themselves. 


132  M'FINGAL. 

Or  courtly  sermon,  laureat  ode, 

And  ballads  on  the  wat'ry  God  ;* 

With  whose  high  strains  great  George  enriches 

His  eloquence  of  gracious  speeches  ? 

Not  faithful  to  our  Highland  eyes, 

These  deadly  forms  of  vision  rise. 

Some  whig-inspiring  rebel  sprite 

Now  palms  delusion  on  our  sight. 

I'd  scarcely  trust  a  tale  so  vain, 

Should  revelation  prompt  the  strain  ; 

Or  Ossian's  ghost  the  scenes  rehearse 

In  all  the  melody  of  Erse.f" 

"  Too  long,"  quoth  Malcolm,  "  from  confu- 
You've  dwelt  already  in  delusion  ;  [sion. 

As  sceptics,  of  all  fools  the  chief, 
Hold  faith  in  creeds  of  unbelief. 
I  come  to  draw  thy  veil  aside 
Of  error,  prejudice  and  pride. 


*  Alluding  to  an  English  ballad,  much  sung  and  famous  at 
that  time,  in  which  Neptune  (called  the  Watry  God]  with 
great  deference  surrenders  his  trident  to  King  George,  and  ac- 
knowledges him,  as  monarch  and  ruler  of  the  ocean. 

f  Erse,  the  ancient  Scottish  language,  in  which  Ossian  com- 
posed his  poems. 


M'FINGAL.  133 

Fools  love  deception,  but  the  wise 

Prefer  sad  truths  to  pleasing  lies. 

For  know,  those  hopes  can  ne'er  succeed, 

That  trust  on  Britain's  breaking  reed. 

For  weak'ning  long  from  bad  to  worse. 

By  cureless  atrophy  of  purse, 

She  feels  at  length  with  trembling  heart, 

Her  foes  have  found  her  mortal  part. 

As  famed  Achilles,  dipp'd  by  Thetis 

In  Styx,  as  sung  in  antient  ditties, 

Grew  all  case-harden'd  o'er,  like  steel, 

Invulnerable,  save  his  heel ; 

And  laugh'd  at  swords  and  spears  and  squibs, 

And  all  diseases,  but  the  kibes  ; 

Yet  met  at  last  his  deadly  wound, 

By  Paris'  arrow  nail'd  to  ground : 

So  Britain's  boasted  strength  deserts 

In  these  her  empire's  utmost  skirts, 

Removed  beyond  her  fierce  impressions, 

And  atmosphere  of  omnipresence  ; 

Nor  to  this  shore's  remoter  ends 

Her  dwarf-omnipotence  extends. 

Hence  in  this  turn  of  things  so  strange, 

'Tis  time  our  principles  to  change  : 


134  M'FINGAL. 

For  vain  that  boasted  faith,  that  gathers 
No  perquisite,  but  tar  and  feathers  ; 
No  pay,  but  stripes  from  whiggish  malice, 
And  no  promotion,  but  the  gallows. 
I've  long  enough  stood  firm  and  steady, 
Half-hang'd  for  loyalty  already, 
And  could  I  save  my  neck  and  pelf, 
I'd  turn  a  flaming  whig  myself. 
But  since,  obnoxious  here  to  fate, 
This  saving  wisdom  comes  too  late, 
Our  noblest  hopes  already  crost, 
Our  sal'ries  gone,  our  titles  lost, 
Doom'd  to  worse  suff 'rings  from  the  mob, 
Than  Satan's  surg'ries  used  on  Job  ; 
What  hope  remains,  but  now  with  sleight 
What's  left  of  us  to  save  by  flight  ? 

f  Now  raise  thine  eyes,  for  visions  true 
Again  ascending  wait  thy  view.' 

"  I  look'd  ;  and  clad  in  early  light, 
The  spires  of  Boston  met  my  sight ; 
The  morn  o'er  eastern  hills  afar 
Illumed  the  varied  scenes  of  war  : 


M'FINGAL.  135 

Great  Howe*  had  sweetly  in  the  lap 
Of  Loring  taken  out  his  nap  ; 
When  all  th'  encircling  hills  around 
With  instantaneous  breastworks  crown'd,t 
With  pointed  thunders  met  his  sight, 
Like  magic,  rear'd  the  former  night. 
Each  summit,  far  as  eye  commands, 
Shone,  peopled  with  rebellious  bands. 
Aloft  their  tow 'ring  heroes  rise, 
As  Titans  erst  assail'd  the  skies  ;J 


*  The  sun  had  long  since,  in  the  lap 
Of  Thetis,  taken  out  his  nap.         Butler. 

f  The  heights  of  Dorchester  overlook  the  south  part  of  Bos- 
ton and  command  the  passage  of  the  harbor.  By  an  unex- 
pected movement,  Washington  took  possession  and  erected 
works  on  them  in  a  single  night.  Putnam  placed  a  number 
of  barrels  in  front,  filled  with  sand,  to  be  rolled  down  on  the 
British  columns,  in  case  they  should  attempt  to  scale  the  emi-\. 
nence.  Howe  after  sundry  manoeuvres  was  discouraged  from 
the  attempt,  and  as  Boston  was  no  longer  tenable,  made  a 
truce  with  Washington,  evacuated  the  place,  and  sailed  with 
his  troops  to  Halifax. 

\  The  Titans  are  described  by  the  old  poets,  as  giants,  sons 
of  the  earth,  who  made  an  insurrection  against  Jupiter.  They 
heaped  mountains  upon  mountains,  in  order  to  scale  the  Gib- 
raltar of  the  pagan  Olympus ;  but  were  foiled  by  the  thun- 
ders of  Jove  and  the  arrows  of  Apollo.  See  Hesiod,  &c. 


136      .,  M'FINGAL. 

Leagued  in  superior  force  to  prove 
The  sceptred  hand  of  British  Jove. 
Mounds  piled  on  hills  ascended  fair 
With  batt'ries  placed  in  middle  air, 
That  hurl'd  their  fiery  bolts  amain, 
In  thunder  on  the  trembling  plain. 
I  saw,  along  the  prostrate  strand 
Our  baffled  generals  quit  the  land, 
Eager,  as  frighted  mermaids,  flee 
T'  our  boasted  element,  the  sea, 
And  tow'rd  their  town  of  refuge  fly, 
Like  convict  Jews  condemn'd  to  die. 
Then  to  the  north  I  turn'd  my  eyes. 
Where  Saratoga's  heights  arise, 
And  saw  our  chosen  vet'ran  band 
Descend  in  terror  o'er  the  land  ; 
T'  oppose  this  fury  of  alarms, 
Saw  all  New-England  wake  to  arms, 
And  every  Yankee,  full  of  mettle, 
Swarm  forth,  like  bees  at  sound  of  kettle. 
Not  Rome,  when  Tarquin  raped  Lucretia, 
Saw  wilder  must'ring  of  militia. 
Through  all  the  woods  and  plains  of  fight. 
What  mortal  battles  pain'd  my  sight, 


M'FINGAL.  137 

While  British  corses  strew'd  the  shore, 
And  Hudson  tinged  his  streams  with  gore. 
What  tongue  can  tell  the  dismal  day, 
Or  paint  the  parti-color'd  fray, 
When  yeomen  left  their  fields  afar 
To  plow  the  crimson  plains  of  war  ; 
When  zeal  to  swords  transform'd  their  shares, 
And  turn'd  their  pruning  hooks  to  spears, 
Changed  tailor's  geese  to  guns  and  ball, 
And  stretch'd  to  pikes  the  cobbler's  awl ; 
While  hunters,  fierce  like  mighty  Nimrod, 
Made  on  our  troops  a  furious  inroad, 
And  levelling  squint  on  barrel  round. 
Brought  our  beau-officers  to  ground  ; 
While  sunburnt  wigs,  in  high  command, 
Rush  daring  on  our  frighted  band, 
And  ancient  beards*  and  hoary  hair, 
Like  meteors,  stream  in  troubled  air  ; 
While  rifle-frocks  drove  Gen'rals  cap'ring, 
And  Red-coatsf  shrunk  from  leathern  apron, 

*  Loose  his  beard  and  hoary  hair 

Stream 'd  like  a  meteor  to  the  troubled  air.         Gray. 
f  An  American  cant  name  for  the  British  troops,  taken  from 
the  color  of  their  uniform. 
18 


138  M'FINGAL. 

And  epaulette  and  gorget  run 
From  whinyard  brown  and  rusty  gun. 
With  locks  unshorn  not  Samson  more 
Made  useless  all  the  show  of  war, 
Nor  fought  with  ass's  jaw  for  rarity 
With  more  success,  or  singularity. 
I  saw  our  vet'ran  thousands  yield, 
And  pile  their  muskets  on  the  field, 
And  peasant  guards,  in  rueful  plight, 
March  off  our  captured  bands  from  fight ; 
t  While  every  rebel  fife  in  play 
To  Yankee-doodle  tuned  its  lay, 
And  like  the  music  of  the  spheres, 
Mellifluous  sooth'd  their  vanquish'd  ears.r 

"  Alas,  I  cried,  what  baleful  star 
Sheds  fatal  influence  on  the  war  r 
And  who  that  chosen  Chief  of  fame, 
That  heads  this  grand  parade  of  shame  ?" 

"  There  see  how  fate,  great  Malcolm  cried. 
Strikes  with  its  bolts  the  tow'rs  of  pride  ! 
Behold  that  martial  Macaroni, 
Compound  of  Phcebus  and  Bellona, 
Equipp'd  alike  for  feast  or  fray, 
With  warlike  sword  and  singsong  lay. 


M'FINGAL.  1 39 

Where  equal  wit  and  valour  join ! 
This,  this  is  he — the  famed  Burgoyne  ! 
Who  pawn'd  his  honor  and  commission, 
To  coax  the  patriots  to  submission, 
By  songs  and  balls  secure  allegiance, 
And  dance  the  ladies  to  obedience.* 
Oft  his  Camp-Muses  he'll  parade 
At  Boston  in  the  grand  blockade  ; 
And  well  inspired  with  punch  of  arrack, 
Hold  converse  sweet  in  tent  or  barrack, 
Aroused  to  more  poetic  passion, 
Both  by  his  theme  and  situation. 
For  genius  works  more  strong  and  clear 
When  close  confined,  like  bottled  beer. 


*  Such  were  Burgoyne's  declarations,  when  he  was  setting 
out  to  command  in  America.  This  pleasant  mode  of  warfare 
not  meeting  with  the  expected  success  at  Boston,  he  appears 
to  have  changed  his  plan  in  his  northern  expedition  ;  in  which 
the  Indians  received  compensation  for  American  scalps,  with- 
out distinction  of  gender.  He  denied  however  his  personal 
agency  in  these  transactions.  See  the  correspondence  be- 
tween him  and  General  Gates,  occasioned  by  the  murder  and 
scalping  of  Miss  McCrea, 


140  M'FINGAL. 

So  Prior's*  wit  gain'd  matchless  power 
By  inspiration  of  the  Tower  ; 
And  Raleigh,  once  to  prison  hurl'd, 
Wrote  the  whole  hist'ry  of  the  world  : 
So  Wilkes  grew,  while  in  jail  he  lay, 
More  patriotic  every  day, 
But  found  his  zeal,  when  not  confined, 
Soon  sink  below  the  freezing  point, 
And  public  spirit,  once  so  fair, 
Evaporate  in  open  air. 
But  thou,  great  favourite  of  Venus, 
By  no  such  luck  shalt  cramp  thy  genius ; 
Thy  friendly  stars,  till  wars  shall  cease, 
Shall  ward  th'  ill  fortune  of  release, 
And  hold  thee  fast  in  bonds  not  feeble, 
In  good  condition  still  to  scribble. 
Such  merit  fate  shall  shield  from  firing, 
Bomb,  carcase,  langridge  and  cold  iron, 
Nor  trust  thy  doubly-laurell'd  head, 
To  rude  assaults  of  flying  lead. 


*  Prior  wrote  his  Alma,  the  best  of  his  works,  while  in  con- 
finement in  the  Tower  of  London. 


M'FINGAL.  141 

Hence  thou,  from  Yankee  troops  retreating, 
For  pure  good  fortune  shalt  be  beaten, 
Not  taken  oft,  released  or  rescued, 
Pass  for  small  change,  like  simple  Prescott  ;* 
But  captured  then,  as  fates  befall, 
Shall  stand  thy  fortune,  once  for  all. 
Then  raise  thy  daring  thoughts  sublime, 
And  dip  thy  conq'ring  pen  in  rhyme, 
And  changing  war  for  puns  and  jokes, 
Write  new  Blockades  and  Maids  of  Oaks."f 


*  General  Prescott  was  taken  and  exchanged  several  times 
during  the  war. 

f  The  Maid  of  the  Oaks  is  a  farce  by  Burgoyne,  often  act- 
ed on  the  English  theatre.  During  the  winter  in  which  the 
British  troops  were  shut  up  in  Boston,  they  amused  themselves 
with  the  acting  of  a  new  farce,  called  The  Blockade  of  Bos- 
ton ;  the  humour  of  which  consisted  in  burlesquing  the  Yan- 
kee phrases,  unmilitary  dress,  and  awkward  appearance  of  the 
new  American  levies,  by  whom  they  were  besieged :  like  the 
fancy  of  Cardinal  De  Retz,  who  while  condemned  to  a  severe 
imprisonment,  took  his  revenge  by  writing  the  life  of  his  jailor. 
This  play  was  generally  ascribed  to  the  pen  of  Burgoyne. 
As  he  was,  on  his  final  capture,  returned  to  England,  in  good 
condition  still  to  scribble,  he  has  since  taken  the  advice  of 
Malcolm,  and  written  the  comedy  of  The  Heiress,  which  is 
indeed  one  of  the  best  modern  productions  of  the  British 
stage. 


MFINGAL. 

This  said,  he  turn'd  and  saw  the  tale 
Had  dyed  my  trembling  cheeks  with  pale  ;* 
Then  pitying  in  a  milder  vein, 
Pursued  the  visionary  strain ; 

"  Too  much  perhaps  hath  pain'd  your  view. 
From  vict'ries  of  the  Rebel  crew. 
Now  see  the  deeds,  not  small  or  scanty, 
Of  British  valour  and  humanity  ; 
And  learn  from  this  heroic  sight, 
How  England's  sons  and  friends  can  fight, 
In  what  dread  scenes  their  courage  grows. 
And  how  they  conquer  all  their  foes." 

I  look'd,  and  saw  in  wintry  skies 
Our  spacious  prison-walls  arise, 
Where  Britons,  all  their  captives  taming, 
Plied  them  with  scourging,  cold  and  famine, 
By  noxious  food  and  plagues  contagious 
Reduced  to  life's  last,  fainting  stages. 
Amid  the  dead,  that  crowrd  the  scene, 
The  moving  skeletons  were  seen. 


-*  dyed  her  cheeks  with  pale.        Milton. 


JVrFINGAL.  143 

Aloft  the  haughty  Loring*  stood, 

And  thrived,  like  Vampire,f  on  their  blood, 

And  counting  all  his  gains  arising, 

Dealt  daily  rations  out,  of  poison. 

At  hand  our  troops,  in  vaunting  strain, 

Insulted  all  their  wants  and  pain, 

And  turn'd  upon  the  dying  tribe 

The  bitter  taunt  and  scornful  gibe  ; 

And  British  captains,  chiefs  of  might, 

Exulting  in  the  joyous  sight, 

On  foes  disarm'd,  with  courage  daring. 

Exhausted  all  their  tropes  of  swearing. 


*  Luring  was  a  refugee  from  Boston,  made  commissary  of 
prisoners  by  General  Howe.  The  consummate  cruelties,  prac- 
tised on  the  American  prisoners  under  his  administration,  al- 
most exceed  the  ordinary  powers  of  human  invention.  The 
conduct  of  the  Turks  in  putting  all  prisoners  to  death  is  cer- 
tainly much  more  rational  and  humane,  than  that  of  the  Bri- 
tish army  for  the  three  first  years  of  the  American  war,  or  till 
after  the  capture  of  Burgoyne.  London  Edit. 

f  The  notion  of  Vampires  is  a  superstition,  that  formerly 
prevailed  in  many  nations  of  Europe.  They  pretend  it  is  a 
dead  body,  which  rises  out  of  its  grave  in  the  night  and  sucks 
the  blood  of  the  living. 


J44 

Distain'd  around  with  rebel  blood, 
Like  Milton's  Lazar*  house  it  stood, 
Where  grim  Despair  presided  Nurse, 
And  Death  was  Regent  of  the  house. 

Amazed  I  cried,  u  Is  this  the  way 
That  British  valor  wins  the  day  ?" 
More  had  I  said  in  strains  unwelcome, 
Till  interrupted  thus  by  Malcolm. 

"  Blame  not,  said  he,  but  learn  the  reason 
Of  this  new  mode  of  conq'ring  treason. 
'Tis  but  a  wise,  politic  plan 

To  root  out  all  the  rebel  clan  ; 

• 

For  surely  treason  ne'er  can  thrive 
Where  not  a  soul  is  left  alive  ; 
A  scheme  all  other  chiefs  to  surpass, 
And  do  th'  effectual  work  to  purpose. 
Know,  War  itself  is  nothing  further 
Than  th'  art  and  mystery  of  Murther  ; 


a  place 


Before  his  eyes  appear'd,  sad,  noisom,  dark, 

A  Lazar  house  it  seem'd Despair 

Tended  the  sick,  busiest  from  couch  to  couch. 

And  over  them  triumphant  Death  his  dart 

Shook,  but  delay'd  to  strike Milton. 


M'FINGAL. 

He,  who  most  methods  has  essay'd, 

Is  the  best  Gen'ral  of  the  trade, 

And  stands  Death's  plenipotentiary 

To  conquer,  poison,  starve  and  bury. 

This  Howe  well  knew  and  thus  began : 

(Despising  Carlton's*  coaxing  plan, 

To  keep  his  pris'ners  well  and  merry, 

And  deal  them  food,  like  commissary, 

And  by  parol  or  ransom  vain, 

Dismiss  them  all  to  fight  again) 

Hence  his  first  captives,  with  great  spirit 

He  tied  up,  for  his  troops  to  fire  at,t 

And  hoped  they'd  learn  on  foes  thus  taken, 

To  aim  at  rebels  without  shaking. 

Then  deep  in  stratagem,  he  plann'd 

The  sure  destruction  of  the  land ; 


*  Sir  Guy  Carlton,  afterwards  Lord  Dorchester,  was  Gov- 
ernor of  Canada,  at  the  time  of  our  unfortunate  attack  on  Que- 
bec by  the  forces  under  Montgomery.  He  treated  his  Ameri- 
can prisoners  on  principles  of  humanity,  and  formed  the  only 
exception  to  the  cruelty  and  folly  of  the  British  commanders. 

f  This  was  done  openly  and  without  censure,  in  many  in- 
stances, by  the  troops  under  Howe's  command,  on  his  first 
conquest  of  Long-Island. 
19 


146  M'FINGAL. 

Turn'd  famine,  torture  and  despair 
To  useful  enginry  of  war  5 
Sent  forth  the  small-pox,*  and  the  greater, 
To  thin  the  land  of  every  traitor ; 
Spread  desolation  o'er  their  head, 
And  plagues  in  providence's  stead  ; 
Perform'd  with  equal  skill  and  beauty 
Th'  avenging  Angel's  tour  of  duty  : 
Then  bade  these  prison- walls  arise, 
Like  temple  tow'ring  to  the  skies, 
Where  British  Clemency  renown'd 
Might  fix  her  seat  on  hallow'd  ground, 
(That  Virtue,  as  each  herald  saith, 
Of  whole  blood  kin  to  Punic  Faith) 
Where  all  her  godlike  pow'rs  unveiling, 
She  finds  a  grateful  shrine  to  dwell  in : 
And  at  this  altar  for  her  honor, 
Chose  this  High-priest  to  wait  upon  her, 
Who  with  just  rites,  in  ancient  guise, 
Offers  the  human  sacrifice. 


*  Great  pains  was  taken  by  emissaries  from  New- York,  to 
communicate  the  small-pox  through  the  country.  It  became 
necessary  to  counteract  the  attempt  by  a  general  inoculation 
of  the  inhabitants. 


M'FINGAL.  147 

Here  every  day,  her  vot'ries  tell, 

She  more  devours,  than  th'  idol  Bel ; 

And  thirsts  more  rav'nously  for  gore, 

Than  any  worshipp'd  Power  before. 

That  ancient  heathen  godhead,  Moloch, 

Oft  stay'd  his  stomach  with  a  bullock  ; 

And  if  his  morning  rage  you'd  check  first. 

One  child  sufficed  him  for  a  breakfast : 

But  British  clemency  with  zeal 

Devours  her  hundreds  at  a  meal ; 

Right  well  by  nat'ralists  defined 

A  being  of  carniv'rous  kind : 

So  erst  Gargantua*  pleased  his  palate, 

And  eat  six  pilgrims  up  in  sallad. 

Not  blest  with  maw  less  ceremonious 

The  wide-mouth'd  whale,  that  swallow'd  Jonas ; 

Like  earthquake  gapes,  to  death  devote, 

That  open  sepulchre,  her  throat ; 

The  grave  or  barren  womb  you'd  stuff, 

And  sooner  bring  to  cry,  enough ; 

Or  fatten  up  to  fair  condition 

The  lean-flesh'd  kine  of  Pharaoh's  vision. 

*  See  Rabelais'  History  of  the  Giant  Gargantua. 


148  M'FINGAL. 

Behold  her  temple,  where  it  stands 
Erect,  by  famed  Britannic  hands. 
'Tis  the  Black-hole  of  Indian  structure, 
New-built  in  English  architecture, 
On  plan,  'tis  said,  contrived  and  wrote 
By  Clive,  before  he  cut  his  throat ; 
Who,  ere  he  took  himself  in  hand, 
Was  her  high-priest  in  nabob-land  : 
And  when  with  conq'ring  triumph  crown'd, 
He'd  well  enslaved  the  nation  round. 
With  tender  British  heart,  the  Chief, 
Since  slavery's  worse  than  loss  of  life, 
Bade  desolation  circle  far, 
And  famine  end  the  work  of  war  ; 
And  loosed  their  chains,  and  for  their  merits 
Dismiss'd  them  free  to  worlds  of  spirits. 
Whence  they  with  choral  hymns  of  praise, 
Return'd  to  sooth  his  latter  days,* 


*  Clive  in  the  latter  years  of  his  life,  conceived  himself 
haunted  by  the  Ghosts  of  those  persons,  who  were  the  victims 
of  his  humanity  in  the  East-Indies.  It  is  presumed  that  he 
showed  them  the  vote  of  Parliament,  returning  thanks  for  his 
services. 


M'FINGAL.  149 

And  hov'ring  round  his  restless  bed, 
Spread  nightly  visions  o'er  his  head. 

Now  turn  thine  eyes  to  nobler  sights, 
And  mark  the  prowess  of  our  fights. 
Behold,  like  whelps  of  Britain's  lion, 
Our  warriors,  Clinton,  Vaughan,  and  Tryon, 
March  forth  with  patriotic  joy 
To  ravish,  plunder,  burn,  destroy. 
Great  Gen'rals,  foremost  in  their  nation, 
The  journeymen  of  Desolation  ! 
Like  Samson's  foxes,  each  assails, 
Let  loose  with  firebrands  in  their  tails, 
And  spreads  destruction  more  forlorn, 
Than  they  among  Philistine  corn. 
And  see  in  flames  their  triumphs  rise, 
Illuming  all  the  nether  skies, 
O'er-streaming,  like  a  new  Aurora, 
The  western  hemisphere  with  glory ! 
What  towns,  in  ashes  laid,  confess 
These  heroes'  prowess  and  success  ! 
What  blacken'd  walls  and  burning  fanes, 
For  trophies  spread  the  ruin'd  plains  ! 
What  females,  caught  in  evil  hour, 
By  force  submit  to  British  power ; 


150  M'FINGAL. 

Or  plunder'd  negroes  in  disaster 

Confess  King  George  their  lord  and  master  ! 

What  crimson  corses  strew  their  way, 

What  smoaking  carnage  dims  the  day  ! 

Along  the  shore,  for  sure  reduction, 

They  wield  the  besom  of  destruction. 

Great  Homer  likens,  in  his  Ilias, 

To  dogstar  bright  the  fierce  Achilles ; 

But  ne'er  beheld  in  red  procession 

Three  dogstars  rise  in  constellation, 

Nor  saw,  in  glooms  of  evening  misty, 

Such  signs  of  fiery  triplicity, 

Which,  far  beyond  the  comet's  tail, 

Portend  destruction  where  they  sail. 

Oh,  had  Great-Britain's  warlike  shore 

Produced  but  ten  such  heroes  more, 

They'd  spared  the  pains,  and  held  the  station 

Of  this  world's  final  conflagration  ; 

Which  when  its  time  comes,  at  a  stand, 

Would  find  its  work  all  done  t'  its  hand ! 

Yet  though  gay  hopes  our  eyes  may  bless, 
Malignant  fate  forbids  success  ; 
Like  morning  dreams  our  conquest  flies, 
Dispersed  before  the  dawn  arise." 


M'FINGAL.  151 

Here  Malcolm  paused  ;  when  pond'ring  long 
Grief  thus  gave  utt'rance  to  my  tongue. 
"  Where  shrink  in  fear  our  friends  dismay 'd, 
And  where  the  Tories'  promised  aid  ? 
Can  none,  amid  these  fierce  alarms, 
Assist  the  power  of  royal  arms  ?" 
"  In  vain,  he  cried,  our  King  depends 
On  promised  aid  of  Tory  friends. 
When  our  own  efforts  want  success, 
Friends  ever  fail,  as  fears  increase. 
As  leaves,  in  blooming  verdure  wove, 
In  warmth  of  summer  clothe  the  grove, 
But  when  autumnal  frosts  arise, 
Leave  bare  their  trunks  to  wintry  skies  : 
So,  while  your  power  can  aid  their  ends, 
You  ne'er  can  need  ten  thousand  friends ; 
But  once  in  want,  by  foes  dismay'd, 
May  advertise  them,  stol'n  or  stray'd. 
Thus  ere  Great-Britain's  force  grew  slack, 
She  gain'd  that  aid  she  did  not  lack ; 
But  now  in  dread,  imploring  pity, 
All  hear  unmoved  her  dol'rous  ditty  : 
Allegiance  wand'ring  turns  astray, 
And  Faith  grows  dim  for  lack  of  pay. 


MFINGAL. 

In  vain  she  tries,  by  new  inventions, 

Fear,  falsehood,  flatt'ry,  threats  and  pensions  ; 

Or  sends  Commiss'ners  with  credentials 

Of  promises  and  penitentials. 

As,  for  his  fare  o'er  Styx  of  old, 

The  Trojan  stole  the  bough  of  gold, 

And  least  grim  Cerb'rus  should  make  head. 

Stuff'd  both  his  fobs  with  ginger-bread  :* 

Behold,  at  Britain's  utmost  shifts, 

Comes  Johnstonef  loaded  with  like  gifts, 

To  venture  through  the  whiggish  tribe, 

To  cuddle,  wheedle,  coax  and  bribe  : 


*  medicatam  frugibus  offam.         Virgil. 

f  In  the  year  1 778,  after  the  capture  of  Burgoyne,  our  good 
Government  passed  an  act,  repealing  all  the  acts  of  which  the 
Americans  complained,  provided  they  would  rescind  their 
declaration  of  Independence,  and  continue  to  be  our  colonies. 
The  ministry  then  sent  over  three  Commissioners,  Mr.  John- 
stone,  Mr.  Eden,  and  a  certain  Lord.  These  Commissioners 
began  their  operations  and  finished  them,  by  attempting  to 
bribe  individuals  among  the  members  of  the  States,  and  of  the 
army.  This  bait  appears  to  have  caught  nobody  but  Arnold. 
The  petticoated  politician,  here  mentioned,  was  a  woman  of 
Philadelphia,  through  whose  agency  they  offered  a  bribe  to 
Joseph  Read,  Governor  of  Pennsylvania.  I^ondon  Edit. 


M 'FIN  GAL.  153 

And  call,  to  aid  his  desp'rate  mission, 
His  petticoated  politician, 
While  Venus,  join'd  to  act  the  farce, 
Strolls  forth  embassadress  for  Mars. 
In  vain  he  strives,  for  while  he  lingers, 
These  mastiffs  bite  his  off'ring  fingers  ; 
Nor  buys  for  George  and  realms  infernal 
One  spaniel,  but  the  mongrel,  Arnold. 

"  'Twere  vain  to  paint,  in  vision'd  show. 
The  mighty  nothings  done  by  Howe  : 
What  towns  he  takes  in  mortal  fray, 
As  stations  whence  to  run  away  ; 
What  triumphs  gain'd  in  conflict  warm. 
No  aid  to  us,  to  them  no  harm  ; 
For  still  th'  event  alike  is  fatal, 
Whate'er  success  attend  the  battle. 
Whether  he  vict'ry  gain  or  lose  it, 
Who  ne'er  had  skill  enough  to  use  it. 
And  better  'twere,  at  their  expense, 
T'  have  drubb'd  him  into  common  sense. 
And  waked,  by  bastings  on  his  rear, 
Th'  activity,  though  but  of  fear. 
By  slow  advance  his  arms  prevail, 

Like  emblematic  march  of  snail. 
20 


154  M'FINGAL. 

That,  be  Millennium  nigh  or  far, 
'T would  long  before  him  end  the  war. 
From  York  to  Philadelphian  ground, 
He  sweeps  the  pompous  flourish  round, 
Wheel'd  circ'lar  by  eccentric  stars, 
Like  racing  boys  at  prison-bars, 
Who  take  th'  opposing  crew  in  whole, 
By  running  round  the  adverse  goal ; 
Works  wide  the  traverse  of  his  course, 
Like  ship  t'  evade  the  tempest's  force  ; 
Like  mill-horse  circling  in  his  race, 
Advances  not  a  single  pace, 
And  leaves  no  trophies  of  reduction, 
Save  that  of  cankerworms,  destruction. 
Thus  having  long  both  countries  curst. 
He  quits  them  as  he  found  them  first, 
Steers  home  disgraced,  of  little  worth, 
To  join  Burgoyne  and  rail  at  North. 

"  Now  raise  thine  eyes  and  view  with  plea- 
The  triumphs  of  his  famed  successor."      [sure, 

"  I  look'd,  and  now  by  magic  lore 
Faint  rose  to  view  the  Jersey  shore  : 
But  dimly  seen  in  gloom  array'd, 
For  night  had  pour'd  her  sable  shade, 


M'FINGAL.  155 

And  every  star,  with  glimm'rings  pale, 
Was  muffled  deep  in  ev'ning  veil. 
Scarce  visible,  in  dusky  night 
Advancing  red-coats  rose  in  sight ; 
The  lengthening  train  in  gleaming  rows 
Stole  silent  from  their  slumb'ring  foes  : 
No  trembling  soldier  dared  to  speak, 
And  not  a  wheel  presumed  to  creak. 
My  looks  my  new  surprize  confess'd, 
Till  by  great  Malcolm  thus  address'd. 
"  Spend  not  thy  wits  in  vain  researches  ; 
'Tis  one  of  Clinton's  moonlight  marches. 
From  Philadelphia  now  retreating 
To  save  his  baffled  troops  a  beating, 
With  hasty  strides  he  flies  in  vain, 
His  rear  attack'd  on  Monmouth  plain. 
With  various  chance  the  dread  affray 
Holds  in  suspense  till  close  of  day, 
When  his  tired  bands,  o'ermatch'd  in  fight, 
Are  rescued  by  descending  night. 
He  forms  his  camp,  with  great  parade, 
While  evening  spreads  the  world  in  shade, 
Then  still,  like  some  endanger'd  spark. 
Steals  off  on  tiptoe  in  the  dark  : 


156  M'FINGAL. 

Yel  writes  his  king  in  boasting  tone 
How  grand  he  march'd  by  light  of  moon.* 
I  see  him,  but  thou  canst  not ;  proud 
He  leads  in  front  the  trembling  crowd, 
And  wisely  knows,  as  danger's  near, 
'Twill  fall  much  heaviest  on  his  rear. 
Go  on,  great  Gen'ral,  nor  regard 
The  scoffs  of  every  scribbling  bard  ; 
Who  sings  how  gods,  that  fearful  night. 
Aided  by  miracle  your  flight, 
As  once  they  used,  in  Homer's  day. 
To  help  weak  heroes  run  away  ; 
Tells  how  the  hours,  at  this  sad  trial, 
Went  back,  as  erst  on  Ahaz'  dial, 
While  British  Joshua  stay'd  the  moon 
On  Monmouth  plains  for  Ajalon. 
Heed  not  their  sneers  or  gibes  so  arch, 
Because  she  set  before  your  march. 


*  General  Clinton's  official  dispatches,  giving  an  account 
of  his  marching  from  Monmouth  by  moonlight,  furnished  a 
subject  of  much  pleasantry  in  America;  where  it  was  known 
that  the  moon  had  set  two  hours  before  the  march  began. 

London  Edit. 


157 

A  small  mistake  !  your  meaning  right ; 
You  take  her  influence  for  her  light : 
Her  influence,  which  shall  be  your  guide. 
And  o'er  your  Gen'ralship  preside. 
Hence  still  shall  teem  your  empty  skull 
With  vict'ries,  when  the  moon's  at  full, 
Which  by  transition  passing  strange 
Wane  to  defeats  before  the  change. 
Still  shall  you  steer,  on  land  or  ocean, 
By  like  eccentric  lunar  motion  ; 
Eclips'd  in  many  a  fatal  crisis, 
And  dimm'd  when  Washington  arises. 

"  And  see  how  Fate,  herself  turn'd  traitor, 
Inverts  the  ancient  course  of  nature  ; 
And  changes  manners,  tempers,  climes, 
To  suit  the  genius  of  the  times  ! 
See,  Bourbon  forms  a  gen'rous  plan, 
New  guardian  of  the  rights  of  man, 
And  prompt  in  firm  alliance  joins 
To  aid  the  Rebels'  proud  designs  ! 
Behold  from  realms  of  eastern  day 
His  sails*  innum'rous  shape  their  way, 

*  In   1779,  the  French  king  sent  a  powerful  fleet  to  the 


158  M'FINGAL. 

In  warlike  line  the  billows  sweep, 

And  roll  the  thunders  of  the  deep  ! 

See,  low7  in  equinoctial  skies, 

The  western  islands  fall  their  prize  ; 

See  British  flags,  o'ermatch'd  in  might, 

Put  all  their  faith  in  instant  flight, 

Or  broken  squadrons,  from  th'  affray, 

Drag  slow  their  wounded  hulks  away  ! 

Behold  his  Chiefs,  in  daring  setts, 

D'Estaignes,  De  Grasses  and  Fayettes, 

Spread  through  our  camps  their  dread  alarms. 

And  swell  the  fear  of  rebel  arms  ! 

Yet  ere  our  glories  sink  in  night, 

A  gleam  of  hope  shall  strike  your  sight ; 

As  lamps,  that  fail  of  oil  and  fire, 

Collect  one  glimm'ring  to  expire. 

"  For  lo,  where  southern  shores  extend, 
Beljpld  our  gather'd  hosts  descend, 


West-Indies,  which  was  very  successful  in  the  conquest  of  St. 
Vincents  and  Grenada,  the  defeat  of  Admiral  Biron  fn  a  naval 
engagement,  and  the  capture  of  a  British  ship  of  the  line  and 
Several  frigates,  on  the  American  coast. 


M'FINGAL.  159 

Where  Charleston  views,  with  varying  beams 

Her  turrets  gild  th'  encircling  streams ! 

There  by  superior  force  compell'd, 

Behold  their  gallant  Lincoln*  yield  ; 

Nor  aught  the  wreaths  avail  him  now, 

Pluck'd  from  Burgoyne's  imperious  brow. 

See,  furious  from  the  vanquished  strand, 

Cornwallis  leads  his  mighty  band  ; 

The  southern  realms  and  Georgian  shore 

Submit  and  own  the  victor's  power  ; 

Lo  !  sunk  before  his  wasting  way, 

The  Carolinas  fall  his  prey  ! 

See,  shrinking  from  his  conq'ring  eye, 

The  Rebel  legions  fall  or  fly ; 

And  with'ring  in  these  torrid  skies, 

The  northern  laurel  fades  and  dies  !f 

*  General  Lincoln  was  second  in  command  in  the  army  of' 
General  Gates,  during  the  campaign  of  1777,  which  ended  in 
the  capture  of  General  Burgoyne.  He  afterwards  command- 
ed the  army  in  South-Carolina,  and  was  taken  prisoner  with 
tjie  garrison  of  Charleston  in  1780.  London  Edit. 

This  happened  in  consequence  of  the  determination  of  Con- 
gress, that  Charleston  should  at  all  events  be  defended. 

f  This  refers  to  the  fortune  of  General  Gates,  who  after  ha- 
ving conquered  Burgoyne  in  the  North,  was  defeated  by 
lis  in  the  South.         Tendon  Edit. 


160  M'FINGAL. 

With  rapid  force  he  leads  his  train 
To  fair  Virginia's  cultured  plain. 
Triumphant  eyes  the  travell'd  zone, 
And  boasts  the  southern  realm  his  own. 

"  Nor  vet  this  hero's  glories  bright 
Blaze  only  in  the  fields  of  fight. 
Not  Howe's  humanity  more  deserving 
In  gifts  of  hanging  and  of  starving ; 
Not  Arnold  plunders  more  tobacco, 
Or  steals  more  negroes  for  Jamaica  ;* 
Scarce  Rodney's  self,  among  th'  Eustatians, 
Insults  so  well  the  laws  of  nations  ; 
Ev'n  Tryon's  fame  grows  dim,  and  mourning 
He  yields  the  civic  crown  of  burning. 
I  see,  with  pleasure  and  surprize, 

triumph  sparkling  in  your  eyes ; 


-Arnold  in  the  year  1781,  having  been  converted  to  our 
cause,  commanded  a  detachment  of  our  army  in  Virginia ; 
where  he  plundered  many  cargoes  of  negroes  and  tobacco, 
and  sent  them  to  Jamaica  for  his  own  account.  How  far 
Lord  Rodney  may  have  excelled  him  in  this  kind  of  heroic 
achievements,  time  perhaps  will  never  discover. 

London  Edit, 


M'FINGAL.  161 

But  view,  where  now  renew'd  in  might, 
Again  the  Rebels  dare  the  fight." 
"  I  look'd,  and  far  in  southern  skies 
Saw  Greene,  their  second  hope,  arise, 
And  with  his  small,  but  gallant,  band. 
Invade  the  Carolinian  land. 
As  winds,  in  stormy  circles  whirl'd, 
Rush  billowy  o'er  the  darken'd  world, 
And  where  their  wasting  fury  roves 
Successive  sweep  th'  astonish'd  groves : 
Thus  where  he  pours  the  rapid  fight, 
Our  boasted  conquests  sink  in  night, 
And  far  o'er  all  the  extended  field 
Our  forts  resign,  our  armies  yield, 
Till  now,  regain'd  the  vanquish'd  land, 
He  lifts  his  standard  on  the  strand. 

"  Again  to  fair  Virginia's  coast 
I  turn'd  and  view'd  the  British  host, 
Where  Chesapeak's  wide  waters  lave 
Her  shores  and  join  th'  Atlantic  wave. 
There  famed  Cornwallis  tow'ring  rose, 
And  scorn'd  secure  his  distant  foes ; 
His  bands  the  haughty  rampart  raise, 

And  bid  the  Royal  standard  bln/e. 
21 


162  M'FINGAL. 

When  lo,  where  ocean's  bounds  extend, 
Behold  the  Gallic  sails  ascend, 
With  fav'ring  breezes  stem  their  way, 
And  crowd  with  ships  the  spacious  bay. 
Lo  !    Washington,  from  northern  shores, 
O'er  many  a  region  wheels  his  force, 
And  Rochambeau,  with  legions  bright, 
Descends  in  terror  to  the  fight. 
Not  swifter  cleaves  his  rapid  way 
The  eagle,  cow'ring  o'er  his  prey  ; 
Or  knights  in  famed  romance,  that  fly 
On  fairy  pinions  through  the  sky. 
Amazed,  the  Briton's  startled  pride 
Sees  ruin  wake  on  every  side, 
And  all  his  troops,  to  fate  consign'd, 
By  instantaneous  stroke,  Burgoyned.* 
Not  Cadmus  view'd  with  more  surprise, 
From  earth  embattled  armies  rise, 
Who  from  the  dragon's  teeth  beheld 
Men  starting  fierce  with  spear  and  shield.f 


*  To  Burgoyne  an  army  was  during  the  war,  a  favoriu 
phrase  ia  America,  to  express  a  complete  capture, 
f  See  Ovid's  Metam.orphoses. 


M'FINGAL.  163 

1  saw,  with  looks  downcast  and  grave, 
The  Chief  emerging  from  his  cave, 
Where  chased,  like  fox,  in  mighty  round, 
His  hunters  earth'd  him  first  in  ground  ;* 
And  doom'd  by  fate  to  rebel  sway, 
Yield  all  his  captured  host  a  prey. 
There  while  I  view'd  the  vanquish'd  town, 
Thus  with  a  sigh  my  friend  went  on." 

"  Behold'st  thou  not  that  band  forlorn, 
Like  slaves  in  Roman  triumphs  borne, 
Their  faces  lengthening  with  their  fears, 
And  cheeks  distain'd  with  streams  of  tears ; 
Like  dramatis  personce  sage, 
Equipp'd  to  act  on  Tyburn's  stage. 
Lo,  these  are  they,  who  lured  by  follies 
Left  all,  and  follow'd  great  Cornwallis, 
Expectant  of  the  promised  glories, 
And  new  Millennial  reign  of  Tories ! 


*  Alluding  to  the  fact  of  Cornwallis'  taking  up  his  residence 
in  a  kind  of  Cave,  made  bomb-proof,  during  the  siege  of 
York-Town. 


164  JVl'FIiNGAL. 

Alas !  ill  vain,  all  doubts  forgetting, 
They  tried  th'  omnipotence  of  Britain ; 
But  found  her  arm,  once  strong  and  brave, 
So  shorten'd  now,  she  cannot  save. 
Not  more  aghast,  departed  souls 
Who  risk'd  their  fate  on  Popish  bulls, 
And  find  St.  Peter,  at  the  wicket, 
Refuse  to  countersign  their  ticket, 
When  driven  to  purgatory  back, 
With  each  his  pardon  in  his  pack  ; 
Than  Tories,  must'ring  at  their  stations, 
On  faith  of  royal  proclamations. 
As  Pagan  chiefs  at  every  crisis, 
Confirm'd  their  leagues  by  sacrifices, 
And  herds  of  beasts,  to  all  their  deities. 
Oblations  fell,  at  close  of  treaties : 
Cornwallis  thus,  in  ancient  fashion, 
Concludes  his  grand  capitulation  ;* 


*  All  the  favor,  which  Cornwallis,  on  his  surrender,  stipula- 
ted for  the  Tories  who  had  joined  him,  was  a  single  frigate 
free  from  search,  to  convey  away  a  few  of  the  most  obnoxious. 


M'FINGAI*.  165 

And  heedless  of  their  screams  or  sufferings, 
Gives  up  the  Tories  for  sin-off 'rings. 
See  where,  relieved  from  sad  embargo, 
Steer  off  consign'd  a  recreant  cargo ; 
Like  old  scape-goats  to  roam  in  pain, 
Mark'd  like  their  great  forerunner,  Cain. 
The  rest  now  doom'd  by  British  leagues 
To  vengeance  of  resentful  Whigs, 
Hold  doubtful  lives  on  tenure  ill 
Of  tenancy  at  Rebel-will, 
While  hov'ring  o'er  their  forfeit  persons, 
The  gallows  waits  his  just  reversions. 

"  Thou  too,  M'FINGAL,  ere  that  day, 
Shalt  taste  the  terrors  of  th'  affray. 
See,  o'er  thee  hangs  in  angry  skies, 
Where  Whiggish  Constellations  rise, 
And  while  plebeian  signs  ascend, 
Their  mob-inspiring  aspects  bend, 
That  baleful  Star,  whose  horrid  hair* 
Shakes  forth  the  plagues  of  down  and  tar  ! 


•  *  From  his  horrid  hair 


Shakes  pestilence  and  war.  Milton. 


M'FINGAL. 

I  see  the  pole,  that  rears  on  high 
Its  flag  terrific  through  the  sky ; 
The  mob  beneath  prepared  t'  attack, 
And  tar  predestined  for  thy  back. 
Ah  quit,  my  friend,  this  dang'rous  home, 
Nor  wait  the  darker  scenes  to  come. 
For  know,  that  fate's  auspicious  door, 
Once  shut  to  flight,  is  oped  no  more  ; 
Nor  wears  its  hinge,  by  changing  stations, 
Like  Mercy's  door  in  Proclamations.* 

"  But  lest  thou  pause,  or  doubt  to  fly, 
To  stranger  visions  turn  thine  eye. 
Each  cloud,  that  dimm'd  thy  mental  ray, 
And  all  the  mortal  mists  decay. 
See,  more  than  human  pow'rs  befriend, 
And  lo  !  their  hostile  forms  ascend.f 


*  The  door  of  niercy  is  now  open,  and  the  door  of'  mercy 
will  be  shut,  were  phrases  so  often  used  in  the  proclamations 
of  the  British  Generals  in  America,  that  our  Poet  seems  to 
fear,  that  the  hinge  of  that  door  will  be  quite  worn  out. 

London  Edit. 

f  Apparent  dirae  facies,  inimicaq  ;  Trojse 
Numina  magna  deum.  Virgil. 


M'FJNGAL.  167 

There  tow'ring  o'er  the  extended  strand, 
The  Genius*  of  this  western  land, 
For  vengeance  arm'd,  his  sword  assumes, 
And  stands,  like  Tories,  dress'd  in  plumes  ! 
See,  o'er  yon  Council-seat,  with  pride 
How  Freedom  spreads  her  banners  wide  ! 
There  Patriotism,  with  torch  address'd 
To  fire  with  zeal  each  daring  breast ; 
While  all  the  Virtues  in  their  train, 
Escaped  with  pleasure  o'er  the  main, 
Desert  their  ancient  British  station, 
Possess'd  with  rage  of  emigration. 
Honor,  his  bus'ness  at  a  stand, 
For  fear  of  starving  quits  their  land  ; 
And  Justice,  long  disgraced  at  Court,  had 
By  Mansfield's  sentence  been  transported. 
Vict'ry  and  Fame  attend  their  way, 
Though  Britain  wish  their  longer  stay  ; 
Care  not  what  George  or  North  would  be  at, 
Nor  heed  their  writs  of  Ne  exeat ; 


*  Generally  drawn  in  symbolical  paintings,  in  the  dress  of 
u  native,  with  his  head  ornamented  with  a  high  plume  of 
feathers. 


168  M'FINGAL. 

But  fired  with  love  of  colonizing, 
Quit  the  fall'n  empire  for  the  rising." 

"  I  look'd,  and  saw,  with  horror  smitten, 
These  hostile  pow'rs  averse  to  Britain. 

"  When  lo,  an  awful  spectre  rose, 
With  languid  paleness  on  his  brows  ; 
Wan  dropsies  swell'd  his  form  beneath, 
And  iced  his  bloated  cheeks  with  death  ; 
His  tatter'd  robes  exposed  him  bare 
To  every  blast  of  ruder  air  ; 
On  two  weak  crutches  propp'd  he  stood, 
That  bent  at  every  step  he  trod  ; 
Gilt  titles  graced  their  sides  so  slender, 
One.  "  Regulation,"  t'other,  "  Tender ;" 
His  breastplate  graved,  with  various  dates, 
"  The  Faith  of  all  th'  United  States  ;"* 
Before  him  went  his  funeral  pall, 
His  grave  stood,  dug  to  wait  his  fall. 

"  I  started,  and  aghast  I  cried, 
"  What  means  this  spectre  at  their  side  ? 


*  On  all  the  emissions  of  Continental  Bills  of  credit,  Con- 
gress pledged  for  their  punctual  redemption,  The  Faith  of  the 
United  States. 


M'FINGAL.  169 

What  danger  from  a  pow'r  so  vain, 
Or  union  with  that  splendid  train  ?" 

"  Alas,  great  Malcolm  cried,  experience 
Might  teach  you  not  to  trust  appearance. 
Here  stands,  as  dress'd  by  fell  Bellona, 
The  ghost  of  Continental  Money  !* 
Of  Dame  Necessity  descended, 
With  whom  Credulity  engendered : 
Though  born  with  constitution  frail, 
And  feeble  strength,  that  soon  must  fail, 


*  The  description  here  given  of  the  Continental  paper- 
money  is  not  more  remarkable,  as  a  splendid  example  of  the 
sublime  burlesque,  than  as  a  faithful  picture  of  that  financial 
operation.  Though  this  money  was  counterfeited  by  waggon 
loads  in  the  British  garrisons,  and  sent  into  circulation  in  the 
country,  yet  none  of  the  consequences  followed,  which  were 
expected  from  this  manoeuvre.  The  paper  money  carried  on 
the  war  for  five  years  ;  when  it  gave  place  to  other  measures, 
which  the  circumstances  of  the  country  rendered  practicable, 
and  went  peaceably  to  rest,  as  here  described  by  the  Author. — 
The  "  weak  crutches,"  called  Regulation  and  Tender,  by 
which  this  Spectre  is  supported,  allude  to  the  different  acts  of 
the  State  legislatures,  made  with  the  design  of  maintaining  the 
credit  of  the  Continental  paper.  Some  of  these  acts  regula- 
ted the  prices  of  commodities,  others  made  this  paper  a  legal 
tender  in  payment.  London  Edit. 
22 


1 70  M'FINGAL. 

Yet  strangely  vers'd  in  magic  lore, 
And  gifted  with  transforming  power. 
His  skill  the  wealth  Peruvian  joins, 
With  diamonds  of  Brazilian  mines. 
As  erst  Jove  fell,  by  subtle  wiles, 
On  Danae's*  apron  through  the  tiles, 
In  show'rs  of  gold  ;  his  potent  wand 
Shall  shed  like  show'rs  o'er  all  the  land. 
Less  great  the  wondrous  art  was  reckon'd 
Of  tallies  cast  by  Charles  the  second, 
Or  Law's  famed  Missisippi  schemes, 
Or  all  the  wealth  of  South-Sea  dreams. 
For  he,  of  all  the  world,  alone 
Owns  the  long-sought  Philos'pher's  stone. 
Restores  the  fabulous  times  to  view, 
And  proves  the  tale  of  Midasf  true. 


*  The  ancient  poets  say,  that  Jupiter  having  fallen  in  love 
with  Danae,  who  was  imprisoned  and  guarded  in  a  brazen 
tower,  succeeded  by  transforming  himself  into  a  shower  of 
gold,  and  falling  through  the  roof  into  her  lap. 
*  Persea,  quern  pluvio  Danae  conceperat  auro. 

Ovid  Metam.  lib.  4. 

f  Midas,  says  the  fable,  had  the  gift  of  turning  every  thing 
he  touched  to  gold. 


M'FINGAL.  171 

O'er  heaps  of  rags  he  waves  his  wand  ; 

All  turn  to  gold  at  his  command, 

Provide  for  present  wants  and  future, 

Raise  armies,  victual,  clothe,  accoutre, 

Adjourn  our  conquests  by  essoin, 

Check  Howe's  advance,  and  take  Burgoyne  ; 

Then  makes  all  days  of  payment  vain, 

And  turns  all  back  to  rags  again. 

In  vain  great  Howe*  shall  play  his  part 

To  ape  and  counterfeit  his  art ; 

In  vain  shall  Clinton,*  more  belated, 

A  conj'rer  turn  to  imitate  it. 

With  like  ill  luck  and  pow'rs  as  narrow, 

They'll  fare,  like  sorcerers  of  old  Pharaoh  ; 

Who,  though  the  art  they  understood 

Of  turning  rivers  into  blood, 

And  caused  their  frogs  and  snakes  t'  exist, 

That  with  some  merit  croak'd  and  hiss'd, 


*  Vast  quantities  of  counterfeit  bills,  in  imitation  of  the 
American  currency,  were  struck  and  sent  into  the  country  from 
New- York  and  Long-Island,  while  those  Generals  command- 
ed the  British  army,  with  the  hope  of  aiding  the  depreciation 
of  the  Continental  money— a  mode  of  warfare  which  they  es- 
teemed very  honorable  against  Rebels. 


172  M'FINGAL. 

Yet  ne'er  by  every  quaint  device 
Could  frame  the  true  Mosaic  lice. 
He  for  the  Whigs  his  arts  shall  try, 
Their  first,  and  long  their  sole,  ally  ; 
A  Patriot  firm,  while  breath  he  draws, 
He'll  perish  in  his  Country's  cause, 
And  when  his  magic  labors  cease, 
Lie  buried  in  eternal  peace. 

Now  view  the  scenes,  in  future  hours, 
That  wait  the  famed  European  powers. 
See,  where  yon  chalky  cliffs  arise, 
The  hills  of  Britain  strike  your  eyes  ; 
Its  small  extension  long  supplied 
By  full  immensity  of  pride  ; 
So  small,  that  had  it  found  a  station 
In  this  new  world,  at  first  creation, 
Or  doom'd  by  justice,  been  betimes 
Transported*  over  for  its  crimes, 


*  Transportation  to  the  colonies  for  felony  is  a  common 
punishment  by  the  English  laws  :  but  that  the  whole  British 
Island  should  be  transported-seems  an  idea  extravagantly  poet- 
ical. 


M'FINGAL.  17' 

We'd  find  full  room  for't  in  lake  Erie,  or 
That  larger  water-pond,  Superior,* 
Where  North  at  margin  taking  stand, 
Would  scarce  be  able  to  spy  land.f 
See,  dwindling  from  her  height  amain, 
What  piles  of  ruin  spread  the  plain ; 
With  mould'ring  hulks  her  ports  are  fill'd, 
And  brambles  clothe  the  lonely  field  ! 


*  Lake  Superior  is  more  than  2200  miles  in  circumference ; 
an  extent  sufficient  to  warrant  the  assertion  of  the  poet,  that 
the  inhabitants  of  Britain,  in  the  supposed  situation,  would  not 
be  able  to  spy  the  surrounding  shores  of  the  lake. 

f  This  has  been  a  most  unlucky  couplet.  The  poem,  com- 
pleted by  the  addition  of  the  two  last  Cantos,  was  first  publish- 
ed in  America  in  the  year  1782.  Some  years  after,  the 
whole  was  reprinted  in  London.  In  that  interval,  Lord 
North  was  so  unhappy,  as  to  lose  his  sight.  And  the  British 
reviewers  of  that  day,  with  their  wonted  sagacity,  imagined 
that  these  lines  were  intended  as  an  insult  upon  him  for  that 
misfortune ;  thinking,  as  we  may  presume,  that  M'Fingal 
foresaw  the  future  blindness  of  his  Lordship,  by  the  aid  of  his 
second-sight.  Their  abuse  of  the  author,  as  wanting  candor 
and  common  sense,  need  not  be  repeated.  ID  a  subsequent 
copy  of  the  poem,  he  struck  out  the  name  of  Lord  North  and 
inserted  that  of  King  George — and  lo,  in  a  few  years  more, 
the  king  also  was  afflicted  with  blindness.  To  prevent  all 
further  mishaps,  the  lines  are  now  restored  to  their  original 
form.  See  the  London  edition  ofll 92. 


174  MCFINGAL. 

See,  on  her  cliffs  her  Genius  lies, 
His  handkerchief  at  both  his  eyes, 
With  many  a  deep-drawn  sigh  and  groan, 
To  mourn  her  ruin,  and  his  own ! 
While  joyous  Holland,  France  and  Spain 
With  conq'ring  navies  awe  the  main  ; 
And  Russian  banners  wide  unfurl'd 
Spread  commerce  round  the  eastern  world. 
And  see,  (sight  hateful  and  tormenting !) 
This  Rebel  Empire,  proud  and  vaunting, 
From  anarchy  shall  change  her  crasis, 
And  fix  her  pow'r  on  firmer  basis  ; 
To  glory,  wealth  and  fame  ascend, 
Her  commerce  wake,  her  realms  extend  ; 
Where  now  the  panther  guards  his  den, 
Her  desert  forests  swarm  with  men  ; 
Gay  cities,  tow'rs  and  columns  rise, 
And  dazzling  temples  meet  the  skies ; 
Her  pines,  descending  to  the  main, 
In  triumph  spread  the  wat'ry  plain, 
Ride  inland  seas  with  fav'ring  gales, 
And  crowd  her  ports  with  whitening  sails  : 
Till  to  the  skirts  of  western  day, 
The  peopled  regions  own  her  sway." 


M'FINGAL.  1 75 

Thus  far  M'FINGAL  told  his  tale, 
When  startling  shouts  his  ears  assail ; 
And  strait  the  Constable,  their  sentry, 
Aghast  rush'd  headlong  down  the  entry, 
And  with  wild  outcry,  like  magician, 
Dispersed  the  residue  of  vision.* 
For  now  the  Whigs  the  news  had  found 
Of  Tories  must'ring  under  ground, 
And  with  rude  bangs  and  loud  uproar, 
'Gan  thunderf  furious  at  the  door. 
The  lights  put  out,  each  tory  calls, 
To  cover  him  on  cellar  walls, 
Creeps  in  each  box,  or  bin,  or  tub, 
To  hide  him  from  the  rage  of  mob, 


*  It  seems  unfortunate  that  the  vision  was  here  so  abruptly 
broken  off.  The  capture  of  two  British  fleets  on  our  lakes  by 
Commodores  Perry  and  M'Donough,  with  the  naval  victories 
of  Hull,  Decatur,  Bainbridge  and  other  American  command- 
ers, in  our  late  war  with  Great  Britain,  could  not  have  escap- 
ed the  prophetic  second-sight  of  M'Fingal,  nor  failed  of  due 
commemoration,  had  he  been  suffered  to  complete  his  detail 
of  futurity.  He  would  probably  have  closed  his  vision  with 
the  battle  of  New-Orleans,  which  put  a  fatal  end  to  all  the 
British  dreams  of  conquest  in  America. 

f either  tropic  now 

;Gan  thunder.  Milton. — Paradise  Regained. 


176  M'FINGAL. 

Or  lurks,  where  cabbage-heads  in  row 

Adorn'd  the  sides  with  verdant  show. 

M'FINGAL  deem'd  it  vain  to  stay, 

And  risk  his  bones  in  second  fray  : 

But  chose  a  grand  retreat  from  foes, 

In  literal  sense,  beneath  their  nose* 

The  window  then,  which  none  else  knew, 

He  softly  open'd  and  crept  through, 

And  crawling  slow  in  deadly  fear, 

By  movements  wise  made  good  his  rear. 

Then  scorning  all  the  fame  of  martyr, 

For  Boston  took  his  swift  departure, 

Nor  look'd  back  on  the  fatal  spot, 

More  than  the  family  of  Lot. 

Not  North  in  more  distress'd  condition, 

Out-voted  first  by  opposition  ; 

Nor  good  King  George,  when  our  dire  phantom 

Of  Independence  came  to  haunt  him,f 


*  This,  during  the  American  war,  was  a  fashionable  phrase 
with  the  British.  No  officer,  who  had  a  lucky  escape,  failed 
of  stating  in  his  report,  that  he  made  a  grand  retreat  under 
the  very  Nose  of  the  enemy. 

f  On  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  the  ministerial 
speakers  in  Parliament  amused  themselves  by  calling  it,  the 


MCFINGAL.  177 

Which  hov'ring  round  by  night  and  day, 

Not  all  his  conj'rors  e'er  could  lay. 

His  friends,  assembled  for  his  sake, 

He  wisely  left  in  pawn,  at  stake, 

To  tarring,  feath'ring,  kicks  and  drubs 

Of  furious,  disappointed  mobs, 

Or  with  their  forfeit  heads  to  pay 

For  him,  their  leader,*  crept  away. 

So  when  wise  Noah  summon'd  greeting, 

All  animals  to  gen'ral  meeting, 

From  every  side  the  members  went, 

All  kinds  of  beasts  to  represent ; 

Each,  from  the  flood,  took  care  t'  embark, 

And  save  his  carcase  in  the  ark  : 

But  as  it  fares  in  state  and  church, 

Left  his  constituents  in  the  lurch. 

phantom  of  Independence.     The  wit  was  echoed  by  all  their 
Newspapers. 

*  As  the  flight  of  Mahomet  to  Mecca  fixes  the  JEra  of  Mus- 
sulman computation ;  so  the  flight  of  M'Fingal  to  Boston 
forms  the  grand  catastrophe  of  this  immortal  work.  So  sub- 
lime a  denouement,  as  the  French  critics  term  it,  never  ap- 
peared before  in  Epic  Poetry,  except  that  of  the  Hero  turning 
Papist,  in  the  Henriade  of  Voltaire. 

F,ND   OF  VOLUME    FIRST. 


1,1, 


HARTFOBLD 


PUBLISHBD  BY  SAMUEL   G.  GOODKICH. 


THE 

POETICAL  WORKS 

OF 

JOHN  TRUMBULL,  LL.D. 

CONTAINING 

M'FINGAL, 

A  MODERN  EPIC  POEM, 

REVISED    AND    COHHECTED, 

WITH  COPIOUS  EXPLANATORY  NOTES  ; 

THE  PROGRESS  OF   DULNESS; 

AND  A  COLLECTION  OF 

POEMS 

ON  VARIOUS  SUBJECTS, 

WRITTEN  BEFORE  AND  DURING  THE  REVOLUTIONARY  WAR. 

TN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

VOL.  n. 


HARTFORD : 
PRINTED  FOR  SAMUEL  G.  GOODRICH, 

BT    LINCOLN   <$•   STONE. 
M  OCCC  XX. 


{j-^  1    ¥>K  it remembered,  That  on  the  seventh  day  of  December,   in  the  forty- 
J     ff  fourth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America, 

JOHN  TKUMBULL.  of  the  said  District  hath  deposited  in  this  office  the  title  of  a 


v   nJlAAj&D    fit    I-*  f»  Hjf*''  \JLJM-II    \^icrn.uj  incj^tai'it,i  uj  ovT(Tiec;fit;ui' 

A  true  copy  cf  Record,  examined  ind  sealed  by  me, 

CHARLES  A.  INGERSOLL,  Clerk  of  the  Ditirict  oj  Connecticut 


CONTENTS 

TO  VOL.  II. 

Page 
PROGRESS  OF  DULNESS,  Part  1 11 

PROGRESS  OF  DULNESS,  Part  II 35 

PROGRESS  OF  DULNESS,  Part  III 62 

Genius  of  America.. 93 

Lines  to  Messrs.  Dwight  and  Barlow 105 

Ode  to  Sleep 1 13 

To  a  Young  Lady.— A  Fable 123 

Speech  of  Proteus. — A  Translation 131 

Prophecy  of  Balaam 141 

Owl  :md  Sparrow. — A  Fable 149 

Prospect  of  the  Future  Glory  of  America.... 157 

On  the  Vanity  of  Youthful  Expectations 165 

Advice  to  Ladies  of  a  certain  Age 171 

Characters 181 

Elegy,  on  the  Death  of  Mr.  St.  John 187 

Destruction  of  Babylon 195 

Elegy  on  the  Times 205 

Appendix 221 


IN  THREE  PARTS. 


PREFACE. 


"  PRAY,  what  does  the  author  mean  ?"  is  the  first  question 
most  readers  will  ask,  and  the  last  they  are  able  to  answer. 
Therefore  in  a  few  words  I  will  explain  the  subject  and  de- 
sign of  the  following  Poem. 

The  subject  is  the  state  of  the  times  in  regard  to  literature 
and  religion.  The  author  was  prompted  to  write,  by  a  hope 
that  it  might  be  of  use  to  point  out,  in  a  clear,  concise,  and 
striking  manner,  those  general  errors,  that  hinder  the  advan- 
tages of  education  and  the  growth  of  piety.  The  subject  is 
inexhaustible  ;  nor  is  my  design  yet  completed.  This  first 
part  describes  the  principal  mistakes  in  one  course  of  life, 
and  exemplifies  the  following  well  known  truths  ; — that  to  the 
frequent  scandal,  as  well  of  religion,  as  learning,  a  fellow, 
without  any  share  of  genius,  or  application  to  study,  may 
pass  with  credit  through  life,  receive  the  honours  of  a  liberal 
education,  and  be  admitted  to  the  right  hand  of  fellowship 
among  ministers  of  the  gospel ; — that  except  in  one  neighbor- 
ing province,  ignorance  wanders  unmolested  at  our  colleges, 
examinations  are  dwindled  to  mere  form  and  ceremony, 
and  after  four  years  dozing  there,  no  one  is  ever  refused 
the  honors  of  a  degree,  on  account  of  dulness  and  insufficien- 
cy ; — that  the  mere  knowledge  of  ancient  languages,  of  thp 
2* 


10 

abstruser  parts  of  mathematics,  and  the  dark  researches  of 
metaphysics,  is  of  little  advantage  in  any  business  or  profes- 
sion in  life  ; — that  it  would  be  more  beneficial,  in  every  place 
of  public  education,  to  take  pains  in  teaching  the  elements  of 
oratory,  the  grammar  of  the  English  tongue,  and  the  elegan- 
cies of  style  and  composition  ; — that  in  numberless  instances, 
sufficient  care  hath  not  been  taken  to  exclude  the  ignorant 
and  irreligious  from  the  sacred  desk  ; — that  this  tenderness  to 
the  undeserving  tends  to  debase  the  dignity  of  the  clergy, 
and  to  hinder  many  worthy  men  from  undertaking  the  office 
of  the  ministry  ; — and  that  the  virulent  controversies  of  the 
present  day  concerning  religious,  or  in  many  cases,  merely 
speculative  opinions,  savoring  so  highly  of  vanity  and  ostenta- 
tion, and  breathing  a  spirit  so  opposite  to  Christian  benevo- 
lence, have  done  more  hurt  to  the  cause  of  religion,  than  all 
the  malice,  the  ridicule,  and  the  folly  of  its  enemies. 
New-Haven,  August  1772. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF   DULNESS. 

PART  I. 
OR    THE    ADVENTURES    OF 

TOM  BRAINLESS. 


vlUR  TOM  has  grown  a  sturdy  boy ; 
His  progress  fills  my  heart  with  joy  ; 
A  steady  soul,  that  yields  to  rule, 
And  quite  ingenious  too,  at  school. 
Our  master  says,  (Pm  sure  he's  right,) 
There's  not  a  lad  in  town  so  bright. 
He'll  cypher  bravely,  write  and  read, 
And  say  his  catechism  and  creed, 
And  scorns  to  hesitate  or  falter 
In  Primer,  Spelling-book  or  Psalter. 
Hard  work  indeed,  he  does  not  love  it ; 
His  genius  is  too  much  above  it. 
Give  him  a  good  substantial  teacher, 
I'll  lay  he'd  make  a  special  preacher. 


THE     PROGRESS 

I've  loved  good  learning  all  my  life  ; 
We'll  send  the  lad  to  college,  wife." 

Thus  sway'd  by  fond  and  sightless  passion, 
His  parents  hold  a  consultation ; 
If  on  their  couch,  or  round  their  fire, 
I  need  not  tell,  nor  you  enquire. 

The  point's  agreed ;  the  boy  well  pleased. 
From  country  cares  and  labor  eased ; 
No  more  to  rise  by  break  of  day 
To  drive  home  cows,  or  deal  out  hay  5 
To  work  no  more  in  snow  or  hail, 
And  blow  his  fingers  o'er  the  flail, 
Or  mid  the  toils  of  harvest  sweat 
Beneath  the  summer's  sultry  heat, 
Serene,  he  bids  the  farm,  good-bye, 
And  quits  the  plough  without  a  sigh. 
Propitious  to  their  constant  friend, 
The  pow'rs  of  idleness  attend.     , 

So  to  the  priest  in  form  he  goes, 
Prepared  to  study  and  to  doze. 
The  parson,  in  his  youth  before, 
Had  run  the  same  dull  progress  o'er  ; 
His  sole  concern  to  see  with  care 
His  church  and  farm  in  good  repair. 


OF    DULNESS.  13 

His  skill  in  tongues,  that  once  he  knew, 
Had  bid  him  long,  a  last  adieu  ;. 
Away  his  Latin  rules  had  fled, 
And  Greek  had  vanish'd  from  his  head. 

Then  view  our  youth  with  grammar  teazing. 
Untaught  in  meaning,  sense  or  reason ; 
Of  knowledge  e'er  he  gain  his  fill,  he 
Must  diet  long  on  husks  of  Lily,*5 
Drudge  on  for  weary  months  in  vain, 
by  mem'ry's  strength,  and  dint  of  brain ; 
From  thence  to  murd'ring  Virgil's  verse, 
And  construing  Tully  into  farce, 
Or  lab'ring  with  his  grave  preceptor, 
In  Greek  to  blunder  o'er  a  chapter. 
The  Latin  Testament  affords 
The  needed  help  of  ready  words ; 
At  hand  the  Dictionary  laid, 
Gives  up  its  page  in  frequent  aid ; 
Hard  by,  the  Lexicon  and  Grammar, 
Those  helps  of  mem'ry  when  they  stammer : 


*  Lily's  was  the  only  Latin  Grammar  then  in  use. 
3* 


*""[' 


14  THE    PROGRESS 

The  lesson's  short  ;  the  priest  contented  ; 
His  task  to  hear  is  sooner  ended. 
He  lets  him  mind  his  own  concerns, 
Then  tells  his  parents  how  he  learns. 

Two  years  thus  spent  in  gathering  knowledge, 
The  lad  sets  forth  t'  unlade  at  college, 
While  down  his  sire  and  priest  attend  him, 
To  introduce  and  recommend  him  • 
Or  if  detain'd,  a  letter's  sent 
Of  much  apocryphal  content, 
To  set  him  forth,  how  dull  soever, 
As  very  learn'd  and  very  clever  : 
A  genius  of  the  first  emission, 
With  burning  love  for  erudition  ; 
So  studious  he'll  outwatch  the  moon 
And  think  the  planets  set  too  soon. 
He  had  but  little  time  to  fit  in  ; 
Examination  too  must  frighten. 
Depend  upon't  he  must  do  well, 

knows  much  more  than  he  can  tell  : 
Admit  him,  and  in  little  space 
He'll  beat  his  rivals  in  the  race  ; 
His  father's  incomes  are  but  small, 
He  comes  now,  if  he  come  at  all. 


OF    DULNE53.  15 

So  said,  so  done,  at  college  now 
He  enters  well,  no  matter  how  ; 
New  scenes  awhile  his  fancy  f)lease, 
But  all  must  yield  to  love  of  ease. 
In  the  same  round  condemn'd  each  day, 
To  study,  read,  recite  and  pray  ; 
To  make  his  hours  of  business  double — 
He  can't  endure  th'  increasing  trouble  ; 
And  finds  at  length,  as  times  grow  pressing, 
All  plagues  are  easier  than  his  lesson. 
With  sleepy  eyes  and  count'nance  heavy, 
With  much  excuse  of  non  paravi,* 
Much  absence,  tardes  and  egresses, 
The  college-evil  on  him  seizes. 
Then  ev'ry  book,  which  ought  to  please, 
Stirs  up  the  seeds  of  dire  disease  ; 
Greek  spoils  his  eyes,  the  print's  so  fine, 
Grown  dim  with  study,  or  with  wine  ; 
Of  Tully's  latin  much  afraid, 
Each  page,  he  calls  the  doctor's  aid  ; 

*  Non  paravi,  I  have  not  prepared  for  recitation — an  ex- 
cuse commonly  given  ;  tardes  and  egresses,  were  terms  used 
at  college,  for  coming  in  J;ite  and  going  out  before  the  conclu- 
sion of  service. 


16  THE    PROGRESS 

*  While  geometry,  with  lines  sd  crooked, 
Sprains  all  his  wits  to  overlook  it. 
His  sickness  puts  on  every  name, 
Its  cause  and  uses  still  the  same  ; 
'Tis  tooth-ache,  cholic,  gout  or  stone, 
With  phases  various  as  the  moon  ; 
But  though  through  all  the  body  spread, 
Still  makes  its  cap'tal  seat,  the  head. 
In  all  diseases,  'tis  expected, 

\   The  weakest  parts  be  most  infected. 

Kind  head-ache  hail !  thou  blest  disease, 
The  friend  of  idleness  and  ease  ; 
Who  mid  the  still  and  dreary  bound 
Where  college  walls  her  sons  surround, 
In  spite  of  fears,  in  justice'  spite, 
Assumest  o'er  laws  dispensing  right, 
Sett'st  from  his  task  the  blunderer  free, 
Excused  by  dulness  and  by  thee. 
Thy  vot'ries  bid  a  bold  defiance 
To  all  the  calls  and  threats  of  science, 
Slight  learning  human  and  divine, 
And  hear  no  prayers,  and  fear  no  fine._ 

And  yet  how  oft  the  studious  gain. 
The  dulness  of  a  letter'd  brain  ; 


OF    DULNtiSS.  17 

Despising  such  low  things  the  while, 
As  English  grammar,  phrase  and  style  ; 
Despising  ev'ry  nicer  art, 
That  aids  the  tongue,  or  mends  the  heart ; 
Read  ancient  authors  o'er  in  vain, 
Nor  taste  one  beauty  they  contain  ; 
Humbly  on  trust  accept  the  sense, 
But  deal  for  words  at  vast  expense  : 
Search  well  how  every  term  must  vary 
From  Lexicon  to  Dictionary  ; 
And  plodding  on  in  one  dull  tone, 
Gain  ancient  tongues  and  lose  their  own, 
Bid  every  graceful  charm  defiance, 
And  woo  the  skeleton  of  science. 

Come  ye,  who  finer  arts  despise, 
And  scoff  at  verse  as  heathen  lies  ; 
In  all  the  pride  of  dulness  rage 
At  Pope,  or  Milton's  deathless  page  ; 
Or  stung  by  truth's  deep-searching  line. 
Rave  ev'n  at  rhymes  as  low  as  mine  ; 
Say  ye,  who  boast  the  name  of  wise, 
Wherein  substantial  learning  lies. 
Is  it,  superb  in  classic  lore, 
To  speak  what  Homer  spoke  before, 


18  THE    PROGRESS 

\ 

To  write  the  language  Tully  wrote, 
The  style,  the  cadence  and  the  note  ? 
Is  there  a  charm  in  sounds  of  Greek, 
No  language  else  can  learn  to  speak ; 
That  cures  distemper'd  brains  at  once, 
Like  Pliny's  rhymes  for  broken  bones  ? 
Is  there  a  spirit  found  in  Latin, 
That  must  evap'rate  in  translating  ? 
And  say  are  sense  and  genius  bound 
To  any  vehicles  of  sound  ? 
Can  knowledge  never  reach  the  brains. 
Unless  convey'd  in  ancient  strains  ? 
While  Homer  sets  before  your  eyes 
Achilles'  rage,  Ulysses'  lies, 
Th'  amours  of  Jove  in  masquerade, 
And  Mars  entrapp'd  by  Phoebus'  aid  ; 
While  Virgil  sings,  in  verses  grave, 

TT-       1  f 

His  lovers  meeting  in  a  cave, 

His  ships  turn'd  nymphs,  in  pagan  fables, 

And  how  the  Trojans  eat  their  tables; 

While  half  this  learning  but  displays 

The  follies  of  the  former  days  ; 

And  for  our  linguists,  fairly  try  them, 

A  tutor'd  parrot  might  defy  them. 


OF    DULNES3.  19 

Go  to  the  vulgar — 'tis  decreed, 
There  you  must  preach  and  write  or  plead  : 
Broach  every  curious  Latin  pljrase 
From  Tully  down  to  Lily's  days  : 
All  this  your  hearers  have  no  share  in, 
Bate  but  their  laughing  and  their  staring. 
Interpreters  must  pass  between, 
To  let  them  know  a  word  you  mean. 

Yet  could  you  reach  that  lofty  tongue 
Which  Plato  wrote  and  Homer  sung  ; 
Or  ape  the  Latin  verse  and  scanning, 
Like  Vida,  Cowley  or  Buchanan  ; 
Or  bear  ten  phrase-books  in  your  head  ; 
Yet  know,  these  languages  are  dead, 
And  nothing,  e'er,  by  death,  was  seen 
Improved  in  beauty,  strength  or  mien, 
Whether  the  sexton  use  his  spade, 
Or  sorcerer  wake  the  parted  shade. 
Think  how  would  Tully  stare  or  smile 
At  these  wan  spectres  of  his  style, 
Or  Horace  in  his  jovial  way 
Ask  what  these  babblers  mean  to  say. 

Let  modern  Logic  next  arise 
With  newborn  light  to  glad  your  eyes, 


20  THE     PROGRESS 

Enthroned  on  high  in  Reason's  chair, 
Usurp  her  name,  assume  her  air, 
Give  laws,  to  think  with  quaint  precision, 
And  deal  out  loads  of  definition. 

Sense,  in  dull  syllogisms  confined, 
Scorns  these  weak  trammels  of  the  mind, 
Nor  needs  t'  enquire  by  logic's  leave 
What  to  reject  and  what  receive  ; 
Throws  all  her  trifling  bulwarks  down, 
Expatiates  free  ;  while  from  her  frown 
Alike  the  dunce  and  pedant  smart, 
The  fool  of  nature,  or  of  art. 

On  books  of  Rhetorick  turn  your  hopes. 
Unawed  by  figures  or  by  tropes. 
What  silly  rules  in  pomp  appear ! 
What  mighty  nothings  stun  the  ear  ! 
AthroismoSj  Mesoteleuton, 
Symploce  and  Paregmenon  ! 
Thus,  in  such  sounds  high  rumbling,  run 
The  names  of  jingle  and  of  pun  ; 
Thus  shall  your  pathos  melt  the  heart, 
And  shame  the  Greek  and  Roman  art. 

Say  then,  where  solid  learning  lies 
And  what  the  toil  that  makes  us  wise  ! 


OF    DULNESS.  21 

Is  it  by  mathematic's  aid 

To  count  the  worlds  in  light  array'd, 

To  know  each  star,  that  lifts  its  eye, 

To  sparkle  in  the  midnight  sky  ? 

Say  ye,  who  draw  the  curious  line 

Between  the  useful  and  the  fine, 

How  little  can  this  noble  art 

Its  aid  in  human  things  impart. 

Or  give  to  life  a  cheerful  ray, 

And  force  our  pains,  and  cares  away. 

Is  it  to  know  whate'er  was  done 
Above  the  circle  of  the  sun  ? 
Is  it  to  lift  the  active  mind 
Beyond  the  bounds  by  heaven  assign'd  ; 
And  leave  our  little  world  at  home, 
Through  realms  of  entity  to  roam  ; 
Attempt  the  secrets  dark  to  scan. 
Eternal  wisdom  hid  from  man  ; 
And  make  religion  but  the  sign 
In  din  of  battle  when  to  join  ? 

Vain  man,  to  madness  still  a  prey. 
Thy  space  a  point,  thy  life  a  day, 
A  feeble  worm,  that  aim'st  to  stride 
In  all  the  foppery  of  pride  ! 

4* 


22  THE    PROGRESS 

The  glimmering  lamp  of  reason's  ray 
Was  given  to  guide  thy  darksome  way. 
Why  wilt  thou  spread  thy  insect  wings, 
And  strive  to  reach  sublimer  things  ? 
Thy  doubts  confess,  thy  blindness  own. 
Nor  vex  thy  thoughts  with  scenes  unknown. 
Indulgent  heaven  to  man  below, 
Hath  all  explain'd  we  need  to  know  ; 
Hath  clearly  taught  enough  to  prove 
Content  below,  and  bliss  above. 
Thy  boastful  wish  how  proud  and  vain, 
While  heaven  forbids  the  vaunting  strain ! 
For  metaphysics  rightly  shown 

But  teach  how  little  can  be  known  : 

» 

Though  quibbles  still  maintain  their  station. 
Conjecture  serves  for  demonstration, 
Armies  of  pens  draw  forth  to  fight, 
And  ****  and  ****  write. 

Oh  !  might  I  live  to  see  that  day, 
When  sense  shall  point  to  youths  their  way  ; 
Through  every  maze  of  science  guide ; 
O'er  education's  laws  preside  ; 
The  good  retain,  with  just  discerning 
Explode  the  quackeries  of  learning : 


OF    DULNESS.  23 

Give  ancient  arts  their  real  due, 
Explain  their  faults,  and  beauties  too  ; 
Teach  where  to  imitate,  and  mend, 
And  point  their  uses  and  their  end. 
Then  bright  philosophy  would  shine, 
And  ethics  teach  the  laws  divine  ; 
Our  youths  might  learn  each  nobler  art, 
That  shews  a  passage  to  the  heart : 
From  ancient  languages  well  known 
Transfuse  new  beauties  to  our  own  ; 
With  taste  and  fancy  well  refin'd, 
Where  moral  rapture  warms  the  mind, 
From  schools  dismissal,  with  lib'ral  hand. 
Spread  useful  learning  o'er  the  land  ; 
And  bid  the  eastern  world  admire 
Our  rising  worth,  and  bright'ning  fire. 

But  while  through  fancy's  realms  we  roam, 
The  main  concern  is  left  at  home  ; 
Return'd,  our  hero  still  we  find 
The  same,  as  blundering  and  as  blind. 

Four  years  at  college  dozed  away 
In  sleep,  and  slothfulness  and  play, 
Too  dull  for  vice,  with  clearest  conscience, 
Charged  with  no  fault  but  that  of  nonsense, 


24  THE    PROGRESS 

And  nonsense  long,  with  serious  air, 
Has  wander'd  unmolested  there, 
He  passes  trial,  fair  and  free, 
And  takes  in  form  his  first  degree. 

A  scholar  see  him  now  commence 
Without  the  aid  of  books  or  sense  ; 
For  passing  college  cures  the  brain, 
Like  mills  to  grind  men  young  again. 
The  scholar-dress,  that  once  array'd  him, 
The  charm,  Mmitto  te  ad  gradumj* 
With  touch  of  parchment  can  refine, 
And  make  the  veriest  coxcomb  shine, 
Confer  the  gift  of  tongues  at  once, 
And  fill  with  sense  the  vacant  dunce. 
So  kingly  crowns  contain  quintessence 
Of  worship,  dignity  and  presence  ; 
Give  learning,  genius,  virtue,  worth, 
Wit,  valor,  wisdom,  and  so  forth ; 
Hide  the  bald  pate,  and  cover  o'er 
The  cap  of  folly  worn  before. 

Our  hero's  wit  and  learning  now  may 
|Be  proved  by  token  of  diploma, 

*  Admitto  te  ad  gradum,  I  admit  you  to  a  degree  ;  part  of 
the  words  used  in  conferring  the  honours  of  college. 


OF    DULNESS.  25 

Of  that  diploma,  which  with  speed 

He  learns  to  construe  and  to  read  ; 

And  stalks  abroad  with  conscious  stride, 

In  all  the  airs  of  pedant  pride, 

With  passport  sign'd  for  wit  and  knowledge, 

And  current  under  seal  of  college. 

Few  months  now  past,  he  sees  with  pain 
His  purse  as  empty  as  his  brain  ; 
His  father  leaves  him  then  to  fate, 
And  throws  him  off,  as  useless  weight : 
But  gives  him  good  advice,  to  teach 
A  school  at  first  and  then  to  preach. 

Thou  reason'st  well ;  it  must  be  so  ; 
For  nothing  else  thy  son  can  do. 
As  thieves  of  old,  t'  avoid  the  halter, 
Took  refuge  in  the  holy  altar ; 
Oft  dulness  flying  from  disgrace 
Finds  safety  in  that  sacred  place  ; 
There  boldly  rears  his  head,  or  rests 
Secure  from  ridicule  or  jests  ; 
Where  dreaded  satire  may  not  dare 
Offend  his  wig's*  extremest  hair ; 

*  A  wig  was  then  an  essential  part  of  the  clerical  dress. 
None  appeared  in  the  pulpit  without  it. 


THE    PROGRESS 

Where  scripture  sanctifies  his  strains, 
And  reverence  hides  the  want  of  brains. 

Next  see  our  youth  at  school  appear, 
Procured  for  forty  pounds  a  year  ; 
His  ragged  regiment  round  assemble, 
Taught,  not  to  read,  but  fear  and  tremble. 
Before  him,  rods  prepare  his  way. 
Those  dreaded  antidotes  to  play. 
Then  throned  aloft  in  elbow  chair, 
With  solemn  face  and  awful  air, 
He  tries,  with  ease  and  unconcern, 
To  teach  what  ne'er  himself  could  learn  ; 
Gives  law  and  punishment  alone, 
V_  Judge,  jury,  bailiff,  all  in  one  ; 

Holds  all  good  learning  must  depend 
Upon  his  rod's  extremest  end, 
Whose  great  electric  virtue's  such, 
Each  genius  brightens  at  the  touch ; 
.  With  threats  and  blows,  incitements  pressing, 
Drives  on  his  lads  to  learn  each  lesson ; 
Thinks  flogging  cures  all  moral  ills, 
And  breaks  their  heads  to  break  their  wills. 

The  year  is  done  ;  he  takes  his  leave  ; 
The  children  smile  ;  the  parents  grieve  ; 


OF    DULNESS.  27 

And  seek  again,  their  school  to  keep, 
One  just  as  good  and  just  as  cheap. 

Now  to  some  priest,  that's  famed  for  teaching, 
He  goes  to  learn  the  art  of  preaching ; 
And  settles  down  with  earnest  zeal 
Sermons  to  study,  and  to  steal. 
Six  months  from  all  the  world  retires 
To  kindle  up  his  cover'd  fires ; 
Learns,  with  nice  art,  to  make  with  ease 
The  scriptures  speak  whatever  he  please  ; 
With  judgment,  unperceived  to  quote 
What  Pool  explain'd,  or  Henry  wrote ; 
To  give  the  gospel  new  editions, 
Split  doctrines  into  propositions, 
Draw  motives,  uses,  inferences, 
And  torture  words  in  thousand  senses ; 
Learn  the  grave  style  and  goodly  phrase, 
Safe  handed  down  from  Cromwell's  days, 
And  shun,  with  anxious  care,  the  while, 
The  infection  of  a  modern  style ; 
Or  on  the  wings  of  folly  fly 
Aloft  in  metaphysic  sky  ; 
The  system  of  the  world  explain, 
Till  night  and  chaos  come  again  : 


THE    PROGRESS 


Deride  what  old  divines  can  say, 
Point  out  to  heaven  a  nearer  way  ; 
Explode  all  known  established  rules. 
Affirm  our  fathers  all  were  fools  ; 
The  present  age  is  growing  wise, 
But  wisdom  in  her  cradle  lies ; 
Late,  like  Minerva,  born  and  bred, 

from  a  Jove's,  but  scribbler's  head, 
While  thousand  youths  their  homage  lend  her. 
And  nursing  fathers  rock  and  tend  her. 

Round  him  much  manuscript  is  spread, 
Extracts  from  living  works,  and  dead, 
Themes,  sermons,  plans  of  controversy, 
That  hack  and  mangle  without  mercy, 
And  whence  to  glad  the  reader's  eyes, 
The  future  dialogue*  shall  rise. 

At  length,  matured  the  grand  design, 
He  stalks  abroad,  a  grave  divine. 

Mean  while,  from  every  distant  seat, 
At  stated  time  the  clergy  meet. 


*  Writing  in  dialogue  was  then  a  fashionable  mode  among 
•the  controversial  divines. 


OF    DULNESS. 

Our  hero  comes,  his  sermon  reads, 
Explains  the  doctrine  of  his  creeds, 
A  licence  gains  to  preach  and  pray, 
And  makes  his  bow  and  goes  his  way. 

What  though  his  wits  could  ne'er  dispense 
One  page  of  grammar,  or  of  sense  ; 
What  though  his  learning  be  so  slight, 
He  scarcely  knows  to  spell  or  write  ; 
What  though  his  skull  be  cudgel-proof ! 
He's  orthodox,  and  that's  enough. 

Perhaps  with  genius  we'd  dispense  : 
But  sure  we  look  at  least  for  sense. 

Ye  fathers  of  our  church  attend 
The  serious  counsels  of  a  friend, 
Whose  utmost  wish,  in  nobler  ways, 
Your  sacred  dignity  to  raise. 
Though  blunt  the  style,  the  truths  set  down 
Ye  can't  deny — though  some  may  frown, 

Yes,  there  are  men,  nor  these  a  few, 
The  foes  of  virtue  and  of  you  ; 
Who,  nurtured  in  the  scorner's  school. 
Make  vice  their  trade,  and  sin  by  rule  : 
Who  deem  it  courage  heav'n  to  brave, 
And  wit,  to  scoff  at  all  that's  grave  ; 

5* 


THE    PROGRESS 


Vent  stolen  jests,  with  strange  grimaces, 
From  folly's  book  of  common-places  ; 
While  mid  the  simple  throng  around 
Each  kindred  blockhead  greets  the  sound, 
And,  like  electric  fire,  at  once, 
The  laugh  is  caught  from  dunce  to  dunce. 

The  deist's  scoffs  ye  may  despise  ; 
Within  yourselves  your  danger  lies  ; 
For  who  would  wish,  neglecting  rule, 
To  aid  the  triumphs  of  a  fool  ? 
From  heaven  at  first  your  order  came, 
From  heaven  received  its  sacred  name, 
Indulged  to  man,  to  point  the  way, 
That  leads  from  darkness  up  to  day. 
Your  highborn  dignity  attend, 
\  And  view  your  origin  and  end. 

While  human  souls  are  all  your  care, 
By  warnings,  counsels,  preaching,  prayer, 
In  bands  of  Christian  friendship  join'd, 
Where  pure  affection  warms  the  mind, 
While  each  performs  the  pious  race, 
Nor  dulness  e'er  usurps  a  place  ; 
No  vice  shall  brave  your  awful  test, 
Nor  Jolly  dare  to  broach  the  jest, 


OF    DULNESS. 

Each  waiting  eye  shall  humbly  bend, 
And  reverence  on  your  steps  attend. 

But  when  each  point  of  serious  weight 
Is  torn  with  wrangling  and  debate, 
When  truth,  mid  rage  of  dire  divisions, 
Is  left,  to  fight  for  definitions, 
And  fools  assume  your  sacred  place, 
It  threats  your  order  with  disgrace ; 
Bids  genius  from  your  seats  withdraw, 
And  seek  the  pert,  loquacious  law ; 
Or  deign  in  physic's  paths  to  rank, 
With  every  quack  and  mountebank ; 
Or  in  the  ways  of  trade  content, 
Plod  ledgers  o'er  of  cent,  per  cent. 

While  in  your  seats  so  sacred,  whence 
We  look  for  piety  and  sense. 
Pert  dulness  raves  in  school-boy  style, 
Your  friends  must  blush,  your  foes  will  smile ; 
While  men,  who  teach  the  glorious  way, 
Where  heaven  unfolds  celestial  day, 
Assume  the  task  sublime,  to  bring 
The  message  of  th'  Eternal  King, 
Disgrace  those  honours  they  receive, 
And  want  that  sense,  they  aim  to  give. 


32  THE    PROGRESS 

Now  in  the  desk,  with  solemn  air, 
Our  hero  makes  his  audience  stare  ; 
Asserts  with  all  dogmatic  boldness, 
Where  impudence  is  yoked  to  dulness ; 
Reads  o'er  his  notes  with  halting  pace, 
Mask'd  in  the  stiffness  of  his  face ; 
With  gestures  such  as  might  become 
Those  statues  once  that  spoke  at  Rome, 
Or  Livy's  ox,*  that  to  the  state 
Declared  the  oracles  of  fate, 
In  awkward  tones,  nor  said,  nor  sung, 
Slow  rumbling  o'er  the  falt'ring  tongue, 
Two  hours  his  drawling  speech  holds  on, 
And  names  it  preaching,  when  he's  done* 

With  roving  tired,  he  fixes  down 
For  life,  in  some  unsettled  town. 
People  and  priest  full  well  agree, 
For  why — they  know  no  more  than  he. 
Vast  tracts  of  unknown  land  he  gains, 
Better  than  those  the  moon  contains ; 
There  deals  in  preaching  and  in  prayer, 
And  starves  on  sixty  pounds  a  year, 

*  Bos  locutus  est.  Liv.  Histor. 


OF    DULNES3.  33 

And  culls  his  texts,  and  tills  his  farm, 
Does  little  good,  and  little  harm  ; 
On  Sunday,  in  his  best  array, 
Deals  forth  the  dulness  of  the  day, 
And  while  above  he  spends  his  breath, 
The  yawning  audience  nod  beneath. 

Thus  glib-tongued  Merc'ry  in  his  hand 
Stretch'd  forth  the  sleep-compelling  wand, 
Each  eye  in  endless  doze  to  keep — 
The  God  of  speaking,  and  of  sleep. 


END    OF    PART    FIRST. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF   DULNESS. 

PART  II. 
OR    THE    LIFE    AND     CHARACTER    OF 

DICK  HAIRBRAIN.* 


1  WAS  in  a  town  remote,  the  place 
We  leave  the  reader  wise  to  guess, 
(For  readers  wise  can  guess  full  well 
What  authors  never  meant  to  tell,) 
There  dwelt  secure  a  country  clown. 
The  wealthiest  farmer  of  the  town. 
Though  rich  by  villany  and  cheats, 
He  bought  respect  by  frequent  treats  ; 
Gain'd  offices  by  constant  seeking, 
'Squire,  captain,  deputy  and  deacon  ; 
Great  was  his  power,  his  pride  as  arrant 
One  only  son  his  heir  apparent. 

*  First  printed  at  New-Haven,  January  MIS- 


36  THE    PROGRESS 

He  thought  the  stripling's  parts  were  quick, 
And  vow'd  to  make  a  man  of  DICK  ; 
Bless'd  the  pert  dunce,  and  praised  his  looks, 
And  put  him  early  to  his  books. 

More  oaths  than  words  Dick  learn'd  to  speak 
And  studied  knavery  more  than  Greek  ; 
Three  years  at  school,  as  usual,  spent, 
Then  all  equipp'd  to  college  went, 
And  pleased  in  prospect,  thus  bestow'd 
His  meditations,  as  he  rode. 

"  All  hail,  unvex'd  with  care  and  strife, 
The  bliss  of  academic  life  ; 
Where  kind  repose  protracts  the  span, 
While  childhood  ripens  into  man  ; 
Where  no  hard  parent's  dreaded  rage 
1   Curbs  the  gay  sports  of  youthful  age  : 
Where  no  .vile  fear  the  genius  awes 
With  grim  severity  of  laws  ; 
Where  annual  troops  of  bucks  come  down, 
The  flower  of  every  neighb'ring  town  ; 
Where  wealth  and  pride  and  riot  wait, 
And  each  choice  spirit  finds  his  mate. 

"  Far  from  those  walls,  from  pleasure's  eye. 
Let  care  and  grief  and  labour  fly, 


OF    DULNE35.  37 

The  toil  to  gain  the  laurel  prize, 

That  dims  the  anxious  student's  eyes, 

The  pedant  air  of  learned  looks, 

And  long  fatigue  of  turning  books. 

Let  poor  dull  rogues,  with  weary  pains, 

To  college  come  to  mend  their  brains, 

And  drudge  four  years,  with  grave  concern 

How  they  may  wiser  grow,  and  learn. 

Is  wealth  of  indolence  afraid, 

Or  does  wit  need  pedantic  aid  ? 

The  man  of  wealth  the  world  descries, 

Without  the  help  of  learning  wise  ; 

The  magic  powers  of  gold,  with  ease, 

Transform  us  to  what  shape  we  please, 

Give  knowledge  bright  and  courage  brave, 

And  sense,  that  nature  never  gave. 

But  nought  avails  the  hoarded  treasure  ; 

In  spending  only  lies  the  pleasure. 

"  There  vice  shall  lavish  all  her  charms, 
And  rapture  fold  us  in  her  arms, 
Riot  shall  court  the  frolic  soul, 
And  swearing  crown  the  sparkling  bowl ; 
While  wit  shall  sport  with  vast  applause, 
And  scorn  the  feeble  tie  of  laws : 

6* 


38  THE    PROGRESS 

Our  midnight  joys  no  rule  shall  bound, 
While  games  and  dalliance  revel  round. 
Such  pleasures  youthful  years  can  know, 
And  schools  there  are,  that  such  bestow. 

"  Those  seats  how  blest,  for  ease  and  sport. 
Where  wealth  and  idleness  resort,* 
Where  free  from  censure  and  from  shame. 
They  seek  of  learning,  but  the  name, 
Their  crimes  of  all  degrees  and  sizes 
Atoned  by  golden  sacrifices  ; 
Where  kind  instructors  fix  their  price, 
In  just  degrees,  on  every  vice, 
And  fierce  in  zeal  'gainst  wicked  courses, 
Demand  repentance,  of  their  purses  ; 
Till  sin,  thus  tax'd,  produces  clear 
A  copious  income  every  year, 
And  the  fair  schools,  thus  free  from  scruples, 
Thrive  by  the  knavery  of  their  pupils. 


*  There  is  a  certain  region  on  the  western  continent,  situa- 
ted within  the  northern  temperate  zone,  where  in  some  of  the 
most  notable  and  respectable  schools,  not  only  indolence  and 
dulness,  but  almost  every  crime,  may  by  the  rich  be  atoned 
for  with  pecuniary  satisfaction. 

Geographical  Paradoxes 


OF    DULNESS.  39 

"  Ev'n  thus  the  Pope  long  since  has  made 
Of  human  crimes  a  gainful  trade  ; 
Keeps  ev'ry  pleasing  vice  for  sale, 
For  cash,  by  wholesale,  or  retail. 
There,  pay  the  prices  and  the  fees, 
Buy  rapes,  or  lies,  or  what  you  please, 
Then  sin  secure,  with*  firm  reliance, 
And  bid  the  ten  commands  defiance. 

"  And  yet,  alas,  these  happiest  schools 
Preserve  a  set  of  musty  rules, 
And  in  their  wisest  progress  show 
Perfection  is  not  found  below. 
Even  there,  indulged,  in  humble  station, 
Learning  resides  by  toleration  ; 
No  law  forbids  the  youth  to  read  ; 
For  sense  no  tortures  are  decreed  ; 
There  study  injures  but  the  name, 
And  meets  no  punishment  but  shame." 

Thus  reas'ning,  DICK  goes  forth  to  find 
A  college  suited  to  his  mind  ; 

But  bred  in  distant  woods,  the  clown 

fr   c>  i  fr-<^_ 

Brings  all  his  country  airs  to  town  ; 
The  odd  address  with  awkward  grace, 
That  bows  with  all-averted  face ; 


THE    PROGRESS 


The  half-heard  compliments,  whose  note 
Is  swallow'd  in  the  trembling  throat ; 
The  stiffen'd  gait,  the  drawling  tone, 
By  which  his  native  place  is  known ; 
The  blush,  that  looks,  by  vast  degrees, 
Too  much  like  modesty  to  please  ; 
The  proud  displays  of  avvtward  dress, 
That  all  the  country  fop  express, 
The  suit  right  gay,  though  much  belated, 
Whose  fashion's  superannuated ; 
The  watch,  depending  far  in  state, 
Whose  iron  chain  might  form  a  grate  ; 
The  silver  buckle,  dread  to  view, 
O'ershad'wing  all  the  clumsy  shoe  ; 
The  white-gloved  hand,  that  tries  to  peep 
From  ruffle,  full  five  inches  deep  ; 
With  fifty  odd  affairs  beside, 
The  foppishness  of  country  pride. 

Poor  DICK!  though  first  thy  airs  provoke 
Th'  obstreperous  laugh  and  scornful  joke, 
Doom'd  all  the  ridicule  to  stand, 
While  each  gay  dunce  shall  lend  a  hand ; 
Yet  let  not  scorn  dismay  thy  hope 
To  shine  a  witling  and  a  fop. 


OF    DULNESS.  41 

Blest  impudence  the  prize  shall  gain, 
And  bid  thee  sigh  no  more  in  vain. 
Thy  varied  dress  shall  quickly  show 
At  once  the  spendthrift  and  the  beau. 
With  pert  address  and  noisy  tongue, 
That  scorns  the  fear  of  prating  wrong, 
'Mongst  list'ning  coxcombs  shalt  thou  shine, 
And  every  voice  shall  echo  thine. 

How  blest  the  brainless  fop,  whose  praise 
Is  doom'd  to  grace  these  happy  days, 
When  well-bred  vice  can  genius  teach, 
And  fame  is  placed  in  folly's  reach, 
Impertinence  all  tastes  can  hit, 
And  every  rascal  is  a  wit. 
The  lowest  dunce,  without  despairing, 
May  learn  the  true  sublime  of  swearing ; 
Learn  the  nice  art  of  jests  obscene, 
While  ladies  wonder  what  they  mean  : 
The  heroism  of  brazen  lungs, 
The  rhetoric  of  eternal  tongues ; 
While  whim  usurps  the  name  of  spirit, 
And  impudence  takes  place  of  merit, 
And  every  money'd  clown  and  dunce 
Commences  gentleman  at  once. 


42  THE    PROGRESS 

For  now,  by  easy  rules  of  trade, 
Mechanic  gentlemen  are  made ! 
From  handicrafts  of  fashion  born  ; 
Those  very  arts  so  much  their  scorn. 
To  taylors  half  themselves  they  owe, 
Who  make  the  clothes,  that  make  the  beau. 

Lo  !  from  the  seats,  where,  fops  to  bless. 
Learn' d  artists  fix  the  forms  of  dress, 
And  sit  in  consultation  grave, 
On  folded  skirt,  or  strait'ned  sleeve, 
The  coxcomb  trips  with  sprightly  haste, 
In  all  the  flush  of  modern  taste  ; 
Oft  turning,  if  the  day  be  fair, 
To  view  his  shadow's  graceful  air  ; 
Well  pleased  with  eager  eye  runs  o'er 
The  laced  suit  glitt'ring  gay  before  ;* 
The  ruffle,  where  from  open'd  vest 
The  rubied  brooch  adorns  the  breast ; 
The  coat  with  length'ning  waist  behind, 
Whose  short  skirts  dangle  in  the  wind ; 
The  modish  hat,  whose  breadth  contains 
The  measure  of  its  owner's  brains  ; 

*  This  passage  alludes  to  the  modes  of  dress  then  in  fashion. 


OF    DULNESS.  43 

The  stockings  gay  with  various  hues  ; 
The  little  toe-encircling  shoes  ; 
The  cane,  on  whose  carv'd  top,  is  shown 
An  head,  just  emblem  of  his  own  ; 
While  wrapp'd  in  self,  with  lofty  stride, 
His  little  heart  elate  with  pride, 
He  struts  in  all  the  joys  of  show, 
That  taylors  give,  or  beaux  can  know. 

And  who  for  beauty  need  repine, 
That's  sold  at  every  barber's  sign  ; 
Nor  lies  in  features  or  complexion, 
But  curls  disposed  in  meet  direction, 
With  strong  pomatum's  grateful  odour, 
And  quantum  sujficit  of  powder  ? 
These  charms  can  shed  a  sprightly  grace, 
O'er  the  dull  eye  and  clumsy  face  ; 
While  the  trim  dancing-master's  art 
Shall  gestures,  trips  and  bows  impart, 
Give  the  gay  piece  its  final  touches, 
And  lend  those  airs,  would  lure  a  dutchess. 

Thus  shines  the  form,  nor  aught  behind, 
The  gifts  that  deck  the  coxcomb's  mind  ; 
Then  hear  the  daring  muse  disclose 
The  sense  and  piety  of  beaux. 


44  THE    PROGRESS 

To  grace  his  speech,  let  France  bestow 
A  set  of  compliments  for  show. 
Land  of  politeness  !  that  affords 
The  treasure  of  new-fangled  words, 
And  endless  quantities  disburses 
Of  bows  and  compliments  and  curses  : 
The  soft  address,  with  airs  so  sweet, 
That  cringes  at  the  ladies'  feet ; 
The  pert,  vivacious,  play-house  style, 
That  wakes  the  gay  assembly's  smile  ; 
Jests  that  his  brother  beaux  may  hit, 
And  pass  with  young  coquettes  for  wit, 
And  prized  by  fops  of  true  discerning. 
Outface  the  pedantry  of  learning. 
Yet  learning  too  shall  lend  its  aid, 
To  fill  the  coxcomb's  spongy  head, 
And  studious  oft  he  shall  peruse 
The  labours  of  the  modern  muse. 
From  endless  loads  of  novels  gain 
Soft,  simp'ring  tales  of  amorous  pain, 
With  double  meanings,  neat  and  handy, 

From  Rochester  and  Tristram  Shandy.* 

JA > 

*  Sterne's  Tristram  Shandy  was  then  in  the  highest  vo?ue. 
d  in  the  zenith  of  its  transitory  reputation. 


OF    DULNESS.  45 

The  blund'ring  aid  of  weak  reviews, 
That  forge  the  fetters  of  the  muse, 
Shall  give  him  airs  of  criticising 
On  faults  of  books,  he  ne'er  set  eyes  on. 
The  magazines  shall  teach  the  fashion, 
And  common-place  of  conversation, 
And  where  his  knowledge  fails,  afford 
The  aid  of  many  a  sounding  word. 

Then  least  religion  he  should  need. 
Of  pious  Hume  he'll  learn  his  creed, 
By  strongest  demonstration  shown, 
Evince  that  nothing  can  be  known ; 
Take  arguments,  unvex'd  by  doubt, 
On  Voltaire's  trust,  or  go  without ; 
'Gainst  scripture  rail  in  modern  lore, 
As  thousand  fools  have  rail'd  before  ; 
Or  pleased  a  nicer  art  display 
T'  expound  its  doctrines  all  away, 
Suit  it  to  modern  tastes  and  fashions 
By  various  notes  and  emendations  ; 
The  rules  the  ten  commands  contain, 
With  new  provisos  well  explain  ; 
Prove  all  religion  was  but  fashion, 
Beneath  the  Jewish  dispensation. 


46  THE    PROGRESS 

A  ceremonial  law,  deep  hooded 
In  types  and  figures  long  exploded  ; 
Its  stubborn  fetters  all  unfit 
For  these  free  times  of  gospel  light, 
This  rake's  millenium,  since  the  day 
When  sabbaths  first  were  done  away  ; 
Since  pandar-conscience  holds  the  door. 
And  lewdness  is  a  vice  no  more ; 
And  shame,  the  worst  of  deadly  fiends, 
On  virtue,  as  its  squire  attends. 

Alike  his  poignant  wit  displays 
The  darkness  of  the  former  days, 
When  men  the  paths  of  duty  sought, 
And  own'd  what  revelation  taught ; 
Ere  human  reason  grew  so  bright, 
Men  could  see  all  things  by  its  light, 
And  summon'd  scripture  to  appear, 
And  stand  before  its  bar  severe, 
To  clear  its  page  from  charge  of  fiction, 
And  answer  pleas  of  contradiction  ; 
Ere  miracles  were  held  in  scorn, 
Or  Bolingbroke,  or  Hume  were  born. 

And  now  the  fop,  with  great  energy, 
\  Levels  at  priestcraft  and  the  clergy, 


OF    DULNESS.  47 

At  holy  cant  and  godly  prayers, 

And  bigot's  hypocritic  airs  ; 

Musters  each  vet'ran  jest  to  aid, 

Calls  piety  the  parson's  trade  ; 

Cries  out  'tis  shame,  past  all  abiding, 

The  world  should  still  be  so  priest-ridden  ; 

Applauds  free  thought  that  scorns  controul, 

And  gen'rous  nobleness  of  soul, 

That  acts  its  pleasure  good  or  evil, 

And  fears  nor  deity,  nor  devil. 

These  standing  topics  never  fail 

To  prompt  our  little  wits  to  rail, 

With  mimic  droll'ry  of  grimace, 

And  pleased  impertinence  of  face, 

'Gainst  virtue  arm  their  feeble  forces,         , 

And  sound  the  charge  in  peals  of  curses. 

Blest  be  his  ashes !  under  ground 
If  any  particles  be  found, 
Who  friendly  to  the  coxcomb  race, 
First  taught  those  arts  of  common-place, 
Those  topics  fine,  on  which  the  beau 
May  all  his  little  wits  bestow, 
Secure  the  simple  laugh  to  raise, 
And  gain  the  dunce's  palm  of  praise. 


48  THE    PROGRESS 

For  where's  the  theme  that  beaux  could  hit 

With  least  similitude  of  wit, 

Did  not  religion  and  the  priest 

Supply  materials  for  the  jest  ? 

The  poor  in  purse,  with  metals  vile 

For  current  coins,  the  world  beguile ; 

The  poor  in  brain,  for  genuine  wit 

Pass  off  a  viler  counterfeit ; 

While  various  thus  their  doom  appears, 

These  lose  their  souls,  and  those  their  ears ; 

The  want  of  fancy,  whim  supplies, 

And  native  humour,  mad  caprice  ; 

Loud  noise  for  argument  goes  off, 

For  mirth  polite,  the  ribald's  scoff  5 

For  sense,  lewd  droll'ries  entertain  us, 

And  wit  is  mimick'd  by  profaneness. 

Thus  'twixt  the  taylor  and  the  player, 
And  Hume,  and  Tristram,  and  Voltaire, 
Complete  in  modern  trim  array'd, 
The  clockwork  gentleman  is  made ; 
As  thousand  fops  ere  DICK  have  shone, 
In  airs,  which  DICK  ere  long  shall  own. 

But  not  immediate  from  the  clown, 
He  gains  this  zenith  of  renown  : 


OF    DULNES$.  49 

Slow  dawns  the  coxcomb's  op'ning  ray 

Rome  was  not  finish'd  in  a  day. 

Perfection  is  the  work  of  time  ; 

Gradual  he  mounts  the  height  sublime  ; 

First  shines  abroad  with  bolder  grace, 

In  suits  of  second-handed  lace, 

And  learns  by  rote,  like  studious  players, 

The  fop's  infinity  of  airs  ; 

Till  merit,  to  full  ripeness  grown, 

By  constancy  attains  the  crown. 

Now  should  our  tale  at  large  proceed, 
Here  might  I  tell,  and  you  might  read 
At  college  next  how  DICK  went  on, 
And  prated  much  and  studied  none  ; 
Yet  shone  with  fair,  unborrow'd  ray, 
And  steer'd  where  nature  led  the  way. 
What  though  each  academic  science 
Bade  all  his  efforts  bold  defiance  ! 
What  though  in  algebra  his  station 
Was  negative  in  each  equation  ; 
Though  in  astronomy  survey'd, 
His  constant  course  was  retrograde  ; 
O'er  Newton's  system  though  he  sleeps 
And  finds  his  wits  in  dark  eclipse  ! 


50  THE    PROGRESS 

His  talents  proved  of  highest  price 
At  all  the  arts  of  cards  and  dice  ; 
His  genius  turn'd,  with  greatest  skill, 
To  whist,  loo,  cribbage  and  quadrille, 
And  taught,  to  every  rival's  shame, 
Each  nice  distinction  of  the  game. 

As  noon-day  sun,  the  case  is  plain, 
Nature  has  nothing  made  in  vain. 
The  blind  mole  cannot  fly  ;  'tis  found 
His  genius  leads  him  under  ground. 
The  man  that  was  not  made  to  think, 
Was  born  to  game,  and  swear,  and  drink. 
Let  fops  defiance  bid  to  satire, 
Mind  Tully's  rule,  and  follow  nature. 

Yet  here  the  muse,  of  DICK,  must  tell 
He  shone  in  active  scenes  as  well ; 
The  foremost  place  in  riots  held, 
In  all  the  gifts  of  noise  excell'd, 
His  tongue,  the  bell,  whose  rattling  din  would 
Summon  the  rake's  nocturnal  synod ; 
Swore  with  a  grace  that  seem'd  design'd 
To  emulate  the  infernal  kind, 
Nor  only  make  their  realms  his  due, 
But  learn,  betimes,  their  language  too  ; 


OF    DULNESS.  54 

And  well  expert  in  arts  polite, 
Drank  wine  by  quarts  to  mend  his  sight, 
For  he  that  drinks  till  all  things  reel, 
Sees  double,  and  that's  twice  as  well ; 
And  ere  its  force  confined  his  feet, 
Led  out  his  mob  to  scour  the  street; 
Made  all  authority  his  may-game, 
And  strain'd  his  little  wits  to  plague  'em. 
Then,  every  crime  atoned  with  ease, 
Pro  mentis*  received  degrees  ; 
And  soon,  as  fortune  chanced  to  fall, 
His  father  died  and  left  him  all. 
Then,  bent  to  gain  all  modern  fashions, 
He  sail'd  to  visit  foreign  nations, 
Resolved,  by  toil  unaw'd,  to  import 
The  follies  of  the  British  court ; 
But  in  his  course  o'erlook'd  whate'er 
Was  learn'd  or  valued,  rich  or  rare. 

As  fire  electric  draws  together 
Each  hair  and  straw  and  dust  and  feather, 


*  For  his  merits — the  customary  phrase  in  collegiate  diplo- 
mas. 


52  THE    PROGRESS 

The  travell'd  dunce  collects  betimes 
The  levities  of  other  climes  ; 
And  when  long  toil  has  given  success, 
Returns  his  native  land  to  bless, 
A  patriot  fop,  that  struts  by  rules, 
And  Knight  of  all  the  shire  of  fools. 

The  praise  of  other  learning  lost, 
To  know  the  world  is  all  his  boast, 
By  conduct  teach  our  country  widgeons, 
How  coxcombs  shine  in  other  regions, 
Display  his  travell'd  airs  and  fashions, 
And  scoff  at  college  educations. 

Whoe'er  at  college  points  his  sneer, 
Proves  that  himself  learn'd  nothing  there, 
And  wisely  makes  his  honest  aim 
To  pay  the  mutual  debt  of  shame. 

Mean  while  our  hero's  anxious  care 
Was  all  employ'd  to  please  the  fair ; 
With  vows  of  love  and  airs  polite, 
Oft  sighing  at  some  lady's  feet ; 
Pleased,  while  he  thus  in  form  address'd  her. 
With  his  own  gracefulness  of  gesture, 
And  gaudy  flattery,  that  displays 
A  studied  elegance  of  phrase. 


OF     DULNESS.  53 

So  gay  at  balls  the  coxcomb  shone, 
He  thought  the  female  world  his  own. 

o 

By  beauty's  charms  he  ne'er  was  fired ; 

He  flatter'd  where  the  world  admired. 

Himself,  so  well  he  prized  desert, 

Possest  his  own  unrivall'd  heart ; 

Nor  charms,  nor  chance,  nor  change  could  move 

The  firm  foundations  of  his  love ; 

His  heart,  so  constant  and  so  wise, 

Pursued  what  sages  old  advise, 

Bade  others  seek  for  fame  or  pelf; 

His  only  study  was  himself. 

Yet  DICK  allow 'd  the  fair,  desert, 
Nor  wholly  scorn'd  them  in  his  heart : 
There  was  an  end,  as  oft  he  said, 
For  which  alone  the  sex  were  made. 
Whereto,  of  nature's  rules  observant, 
He  strove  to  render  them  subservient ; 
And  held  the  fair  by  inclination, 
Were  form'd  exactly  for  their  station. 
That  real  virtue  ne'er  could  find 
Her  lodging  in  a  female  mind  ; 
Quoted  from  Pope,  in  phrase  so  smart. 
That  all  the  sex  are  '  rakes  at  heart,' 

8* 


54  THE    PROGRESS 

And  praised  Mahomet's  sense,  who  holds 
That  women  ne'er  were  born  with  souls. 

Thus  blest,  our  hero  saw  his  name 
Rank'd  in  the  foremost  lists  of  fame. 
What  though  the  learn'd,  the  good,  the  wise, 
His  light  affected  airs  despise ! 
What  though  the  fair  of  higher  mind, 
With  brighter  thought  and  sense  refined, 
Whose  fancy  rose  on  nobler  wing, 
Scorn'd  the  vain,  gilt,  gay,  noisy  thing ! 
Each  light  coquette  spread  forth  her  charms, 
And  lured  the  hero  to  her  arms. 
For  beaux  and  light  coquettes,  by  fate 
Were  each  design'd  the  other's  mate, 
By  instinct  love,  for  each  may  find 
Its  likeness  in  the  other's  mind. 

Each  gayer  fop  of  modern  days 
Allow'd  to  DICK  the  foremost  praise, 
Borrow'd  his  style,  his  airs,  grimace, 
And  aped  his  modish  form  of  dress. 
Even  some,  with  sense  endued,  felt  hopes 
And  warm  ambition  to  be  fops  : 
But  men  of  sense,  'tis  fix'd  by  fate, 
Are  coxcombs  but  of  second  rate. 


OF    DULNESS.  55 

The  pert  and  lively  dunce  alone 

Can  steer  the  course  that  DICK  has  shown ; 

The  lively  dunce  alone  can  climb 

The  summit,  where  he  shines  sublime. 

But  ah  !  how  short  the  fairest  name 
Stands  on  the  slippery  steep  of  fame  ! 
The  noblest  heights  we're  soonest  giddy  on ; 
The  sun  ne'er  stays  in  his  meridian ; 
The  brightest  stars  must  quickly  set ; 
And  DICK  has  deeply  run  in  debt. 
Not  all  his  oaths  can  duns  dismay, 
Or  deadly  bailiffs  fright  away, 
Not  all  his  compliments  can  bail, 
Or  minuets  dance  him  from  the  jail. 
Law  not  the  least  respect  can  give 
To  the  laced  coat,  or  ruffled  sleeve  ; 
His  splendid  ornaments  must  fall, 
And  all  is  lost,  for  these  were  all. 

What  then  remains  ?  in  health's  decline, 
By  lewdness,  luxury  and  wine, 
Worn  by  disease,  with  purse  too  shallow, 
To  lead  in  fashions,  or  to  follow, 
The  meteor's  gaudy  light  is  gone  ; 
Lone  age  with  hasty  step  comes  on. 


56  THE    PROGRESS 

How  pale  the  palsied  fop  appears. 

Low  shivering  in  the  vale  of  years  ; 

The  ghost  of  all  his  former  days, 

When  folly  lent  the  ear  of  praise, 

And  beaux  with  pleased  attention  hung 

On  accents  of  his  chatt'ring  tongue. 

Now  all  those  days  of  pleasure  o'er, 

That  chatt'ring  tongue  must  prate  no  more. 

From  every  place,  that  bless'd  his  hopes, 

He's  elbow'd  out  by  younger  fops. 

Each  pleasing  thought  unknown,  that  cheers 

The  sadness  of  declining  years, 

In  lonely  age  he  sinks  forlorn, 

Of  all,  and  even  himself,  the  scorn. 

The  coxcomb's  course  were  gay  and  clever, 
Would  health  and  money  last  for  ever, 
Did  conscience  never  break  the  charm, 
Nor  fear  of  future  worlds  alarm. 
But  oh,  since  youth  and  years  decay, 
And  life's  vain  follies  fleet  away, 
Since  age  has  no  respect  for  beaux, 
And  death  the  gaudy  scene  must  close, 
Happy  the  man,  whose  early  bloom 
Provides  for  endless  years  to  come  ; 


OF    DULNESS.  57 

That  learning  seeks,  whose  useful  gain 
Repays  the  course  of  studious  pain, 
Whose  fame  the  thankful  age  shall  raise, 
And  future  times  repeat  its  praise  ; 
Attains  that  heart-felt  peace  of  mind, 
To  all  the  will  of  heaven  resign'd, 
Which  calms  in  youth,  the  blast  of  rage, 
Adds  sweetest  hope  to  sinking  age, 
With  valued  use  prolongs  the  breath, 
And  gives  a  placid  smile  to  death. 


END    OF    PART    SECOND. 


. 


PREFACE  TO  PART  THIRD. 


MY  design  in  this  poem  is  to  show,  that  the  foibles  we  dis- 
cover in  the  fair  sex  arise  principally  from  the  neglect  of  their 
education,  and  the  mistaken  notions  they  imbibe  in  their  ear- 
ly youth.  This  naturally  introduced  a  description  of  these 
foibles,  which  I  have  endeavored  to  laugh  at  with  good  hu- 
mour and  to  expose  without  malevolence.  Had  I  only  consult- 
ed my  own  taste,  I  would  have  preferred  sense  and  spirit  with 
a  style  more  elevated  and  poetical,  to  a  perpetual  drollery, 
and  the  affectation  of  wit ;  but  I  have  found  by  experience  in 
the  second  part  of  this  work,  that  it  is  not  so  agreeable  to  the 
bulk  of  my  readers.  I  have  endeavored  to  avoid  unseason- 
able severity,  and  hope,  in  that  point,  I  am  pretty  clear  of 
censure  ;  especially  as  some  of  my  good  friends  in  these  parts 
have  lately  made  a  discovery,  that  severity  is  not  my  talent, 
and  there  is  nothing  to  be  feared  from  the  strokes  of  my  sat- 
ire ;  a  discovery  that  on  this  head  hath  given  me  no  small 
consolation.  In  the  following  poem,  my  design  is  so  appa- 
rent, that  I  am  not  much  afraid  of  general  misrepresentation  ; 
and  I  hope  there  are  no  grave  folks,  who  will  think  it  trifling 
or  unimportant.  I  expect  however,  from  the  treatment  I 
have  already  received  in  regard  to  the  former  parts  of  this 
work,  as  well  as  some  later  and  more  fugitive  productions. 


60 

that  my  designs  will  by  many  be  ignorantly  or  wilfully  misun- 
derstood. I  shall  rest  satisfied  with  the  consciousness  that  a 
desire  to  promote  the  interests  of  learning  and  morality  was 
the  principal  motive,  that  influenced  me  in  these  writings ; 
judging  as  I  did,  that  unless  I  attempted  something  in  this 
way,  that  might  conduce  to  the  service  of  mankind,  I  had 
spent -much  time  in  the  studies  of  the  Muses  in  vain. 

Polite  literature  hath  within  a  few  years  made  very  consid- 
erable advances  in  America.  Mankind  in  general  seem  sen- 
sible of  the  importance  and  advantages  of  learning.  Female 
education  hath  been  most  neglected  ;  and  I  wish  this  small 
performance  may  have  some  tendency  to  encourage  and  pro- 
mote it. 

The  sprightliness  of  female  genius,  and  the  excellence  of 
that  sex  in  their  proper  walks  of  science,  are  by  no  means  in- 
ferior to  the  accomplishments  of  the  men.  And  although  the 
course  of  their  education  ought  to  be  different,  and  writing  is 
not  so  peculiarly  the  business  of  the  sex,  yet  I  cannot  but 
hope  hereafter  to  see  the  accomplishment  of  my  prediction 
in  their  favor. 

Her  daughters  too  this  happy  land  shall  grace 
With  powers  of  genius,  as  with  charms  of  face  ; 
Blest  with  the  softness  of  the  female  mind, 
With  fancy  blooming,  and  with  taste  refined, 
Some  Rowe  shall  ipse  and  wrest  with  daring  pen, 
The  pride  of  science  from  assuming  men ; 
While  each  bright  line  a  polish'd  beauty  wears  ; 
For  every  Muse  and  every  Grace  are  theirs. 

New-Haven,  July  F773. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF   DULNESS. 

PART  III. 
OR    THE    ADVENTURES    OF 

MISS  HARRIET  SIMPER, 


(jOME  hither,  HARRIET,  pretty  Miss, 
Come  hither ;  give  your  aunt  a  kiss. 
What,  blushing  ?  fye,  hold  up  your  head. 
Full  six  years  old  and  yet  afraid ! 
With  such  a  form,  an  air,  a  grace, 
You're  not  ashamed  to  show  your  face  ! 
Look  like  a  lady — bold — my  child! 
Why  ma'am,  your  HARRIET  will  be  spoil'd. 
What  pity  'tis,  a  girl  so  sprightly 
Should  hang  her  head  so  unpolitely  ? 
And  sure  there's  nothing  worth  a  rush  in 
That  odd,  unnatural  trick  of  blushing ; 
It  marks  one  ungenteelly  bred, 

And  shows  there's  mischief  in  her  head 

9* 


62  THE    PROGRESS 

I've  heard  Dick  Hairbrain  prove  from  Paul, 

Eve  never  blush'd  before  the  fall. 

'Tis  said  indeed,  in  latter  days, 

It  gain'd  our  grandmothers  some  praise  ; 

Perhaps  it  suited  well  enough 

With  hoop  and  farthingale  and  ruff; 

But  this  politer  generation 

Holds  ruffs  and  blushes  out  of  fashion. 

"  And  what  can  mean  that  gown  so  odd  r 
You  ought  to  dress  her  in  the  mode, 
To  teach  her  how  to  make  a  figure  ; 
Or  she'll  be  awkward  when  she's  bigger, 
And  look  as  queer  as  Joan  of  Nokes, 
And  never  rig  like  other  folks  ; 
Her  clothes  will  trail,  all  fashion  lost. 
As  if  she  hung  them  on  a  post, 
And  sit  as  awkwardly  as  Eve's 
First  pea-green  petticoat  of  leaves. 

"  And  what  can  mean  your  simple  whim  here 
To  keep  her  poring  on  her  primer  ? 
'Tis  quite  enough  for  girls  to  know, 
If  she  can  read  a  billet-doux, 
Or  write  a  line  you'd  understand 
Without  a  cypher  of  the  hand. 


OF    DULNESS. 

Why  need  she  learn  to  write,  or  spell  ? 
A  pothook  scrawl  is  just  as  well ; 
Might  rank  her  with  the  better  sort, 
For  'tis  the  reigning  mode  at  court. 
And  why  should  girls  be  learn'd  or  wise  ? 
Books  only  serve  to  spoil  their  eyes. 
The  studious  eye  but  faintly  twinkles, 
And  reading  paves  the  way  to  wrinkles. 
In  vain  may  learning  fill  the  head  full  ; 
'Tis  beauty  that's  the  one  thing  needful ; 
Beauty,  our  sex's  sole  pretence, 
The  best  receipt  for  female  sense, 
The  charm  that  turns  all  words  to  witty, 
And  makes  the  silliest  speeches  pretty. 
Ev'n  folly  borrows  killing  graces 
From  ruby  lips  and  roseate  faces. 
Give  airs  and  beauty  to  your  daughter, 
And  sense  and  wit  will  follow  after." 
Thus  round  the  infant  Miss  in  state 
The  council  of  the  ladies  meet, 
And  gay  in  modern  style  and  fashion 
Prescribe  their  rules  of  education. 
The  mother  once  herself  a  toast, 
Prays  for  her  child  the  self-same  post : 


64  THE    PROGRESS 

The  father  hates  the  toil  and  pother, 
And  leaves  his  daughters  to  their  mother  ; 
From  whom  her  faults,  that  never  vary, 
May  come  by  right  hereditary, 
Follies  be  multiplied  with  quickness, 
And  whims  keep  up  the  family  likeness. 

Ye  parents,  shall  those  forms  so  fair, 
The  graces  might  be  proud  to  wear, 
The  charms  those  speaking  eyes  display, 
Where  passion  sits  in  ev'ry  ray, 
Th'  expressive  glance,  the  air  refined, 
That  sweet  vivacity  of  mind, 
Be  doom'd  for  life  to  folly's  sway, 
By  trifles  lur'd,  to  fops  a  prey  ? 
Say,  can  ye  think  that  forms  so  fine 
Were  made  for  nothing  but  to  shine, 
With  lips  of  rose  and  cheeks  of  cherry, 
Outgo  the  works  of  statuary, 
And  gain  the  prize  of  show,  as  victors 
O'er  busts  and  effigies  and  pictures  ? 
Can  female  sense  no  trophies  raise, 
Are  dress  and  beauty  all  their  praise, 
And  does  no  lover  hope  to  find 
An  angel  in  his  charmer's  mind  ? 


OF    DULNESS.  66 

First  from  the  dust  our  sex  began, 

But  woman  was  refined  from  man  ; 

Received  again,  with  softer  air,< 

The  great  Creator's  forming  care. 

And  shall  it  no  attention  claim 

Their  beauteous  infant  souls  to  frame  ? 

Shall  half  your  precepts  tend  the  while 

Fair  nature's  lovely  work  to  spoil, 

The  native  innocence  deface, 

The  glowing  blush,  the  modest  grace, 

On  follies  fix  their  young  desire, 

To  trifles  bid  their  souls  aspire, 

Fill  their  gay  heads  with  whims  of  fashion, 

And  slight  all  other  cultivation, 

Let  every  useless,  barren  weed 

Of  foolish  fancy  run  to  seed, 

And  make  their  minds  the  receptacle 

Of  every  thing  that's  false  and  fickle  ; 

Where  gay  caprice  with  wanton  air, 

And  vanity  keep  constant  fair, 

Where  ribbons,  laces,  patches,  puffs, 

Caps,  jewels,  ruffles,  tippets,  muffs, 

With  gaudy  whims  of  vain  parade, 

Croud  each  apartment  of  the  head  ; 


66  THE    PROGRESS 

Where  stands,  displayed  with  costly  pains, 
The  toyshop  of  coquettish  brains, 
And  high-crown'd  caps  hang  out  the  sign. 
And  beaux  as  customers  throng  in  ; 
Whence  sense  is  banish'd  in  disgrace, 
Where  wisdom  dares  not  show  her  face  : 
Where  the  light  head  and  vacant  brain 
Spoil  all  ideas  they  contain, 
As  th'  air-pump  kills  in  half  a  minute 
Each  living  thing  you  put  within  it  ? 

It  must  be  so  ;  by  ancient  rule 
The  fair  are  nursed  in  folly's  school, 
And  all  their  education  done 
Is  none  at  all,  or  worse  than  none  ; 
Whence  still  proceed  in  maid  or  wife. 
The  follies  and  the  ills  of  life. 
Learning  is  call'd  our  mental  diet, 
That  serves  the  hungry  mind  to  quiet, 
That  gives  the  genius  fresh  supplies, 
Till  souls  grow  up  to  common  size  : 
But  here,  despising  sense  refined, 
Gay  trifles  feed  the  youthful  mind. 
Chameleons  thus,  whose  colours  airy 
As  often  as  coquettes  can  vary, 


OP    DULNESS.  67 

Despise  all  dishes  rich  and  rare. 
And  diet  wholly  on  the  air ; 
Think  fogs  blest  eating,  nothing  finer, 
And  can  on  whirlwinds  make  a  dinner ; 
And  thronging  all  to  feast  together, 
Fare  daintily  in  blust'ring  weather. 

Here  to  the  fair  alone  remain 
Long  years  of  action  spent  in  vain  ; 
Perhaps  she  learns  (what  can  she  less  ?) 
The  arts  of  dancing  and  of  dress. 
But  dress  and  dancing  are  to  women, 
Their  education's  mint  and  cummin  ; 
These  lighter  graces  should  be  taught, 
And  weightier  matters  not  forgot. 
For  there,  where  only  these  are  shown, 
The  soul  will  fix  on  these  alone. 
Then  most  the  fineries  of  dress, 
Her  thoughts,  her  wish  and  time  possess ; 
She  values  only  to  be  gay, 
And  works  to  rig  herself  for  play  ; 
Weaves  scores  of  caps  with  diff'rent  spires, 
And  all  varieties  of  wires  ; 
Gay  ruffles  varying  just  as  flow'd 
The  tides  and  ebbings  of  the  mode  ; 


68  THE    PROGRESS 

Bright  flow'rs,  and  topknots  waving  high/ 
That  float,  like  streamers  in  the  sky ; 
Work'd  catgut  handkerchiefs,  whose  flaws 
Display  the  neck,  as  well  as  gauze  ; 
Or  network  aprons  somewhat  thinnish, 
That  cost  but  six  weeks  time  to  finish, 
And  yet  so  neat,  as  you  must  own 
You  could  not  buy  for  half  a  crown. 
Perhaps  in  youth  (for  country  fashion 
Prescribed  that  mode  of  education,) 
She  wastes  long  months  in  still  more  tawdry, 
And  useless  labours  of  embroid'ry ; 

With  toil  weaves  up  for  chairs  together, 
Six  bottoms,  quite  as  good  as  leather ; 
A  set  of  curtains  tapestry-work, 

The  figures  frowning  like  the  Turk ; 

A  tentstitch  picture,  work  of  folly, 

With  portraits  wrought  of  Dick  and  Dolly ; 

A  coat  of  arms,  that  mark'd  her  house, 

Three  owls  rampant,  the  crest  a  goose  ; 

Or  shows  in  waxwork  goodman  Adam, 

And  serpent  gay,  gallanting  madam, 

A  woful  mimickry  of  Eden, 

With  fruit,  that  needs  not  be  forbidden ; 


OF    DULNESS.  69 

All  useless  works,  that  fill  for  beauties 
Of  time  and  sense  their  vast  vacuities  ; 
Of  sense,  which  reading  might  bestow, 
And  time,  whose  worth  they  never  know. 

Now  to  some  pop'lous  city  sent, 
She  comes  back  prouder  than  she  went : 
Few  months  in  vain  parade  she  spares. 
Nor  learns,  but  apes,  politer  airs  ; 
So  formal  acts,  with  such  a  set  air, 
That  country  manners  far  were  better. 
This  springs  from  want  of  just  discerning, 
As  pedantry  from  want  of  learning  ; 
And  proves  this  maxim  true  to  sight, 
The  half-genteel  are  least  polite. 

Yet  still  that  active  spark,  the  mind 
Employment  constantly  will  find, 
And  when  on  trifles  most  'tis  bent, 
Is  always  found  most  diligent ; 
For  weighty  works  men  show  most  sloth  in. 
But  labour  hard  at  doing  nothing, 
A  trade,  that  needs  no  deep  concern. 
Or  long  apprenticeship  to  learn, 
To  which  mankind  at  first  apply 

As  naturally  as  to  cry} 
10* 


70  THE    PROGRESS 

Till  at  the  last  their  latest  groan 

Proclaims  their  idleness  is  done. 

Good  sense,  like  fruits,  is  rais'd  by  toil ; 

But  follies  sprout  in  ev'ry  soil, 

Nor  culture,  pains,  nor  planting  need, 

As  moss  and  mushrooms  have  no  seed. 

Thus  HARRIET,  rising  on  the  stage, 
Learns  all  the  arts,  that  please  the  age, 
And  studies  well,  as  fits  her  station, 
The  trade  and  politics  of  fashion  : 
A  judge  of  modes  in  silks  and  satins, 
From  tassels  down  to  clogs  and  pattens ; 
A  genius,  that  can  calculate 
When  modes  of  dress  are  out  of  date, 
Cast  the  nativity  with  ease 
Of  gowns,  and  sacks  and  negligees, 
And  tell,  exact  to  half  a  minute, 
What's  out  of  fashion  and  what's  in  it : 
And  scanning  all  with  curious  eye, 
Minutest  faults  in  dresses  spy ; 
(So  in  nice  points  of  sight,  a  flea 
Sees  atoms  better  far  than  we ;) 
A  patriot  too,  she  greatly  labours, 
To  spread  her  arts  among  her  neighbours, 


OF    DULNESS.  71 

Holds  correspondences  to  learn 
What  facts  the  female  world  concern, 
To  gain  authentic  state-reports 
Of  varied  modes  in  distant  courts, 
The  present  state  and  swift  decays 
Of  tuckers,  handkerchiefs  and  stays, 
The  colour'd  silk  that  beauty  wraps, 
And  all  the  rise  and  fall  of  caps. 
Then  shines,  a  pattern  to  the  fair, 
Of  mien,  address  and  modish  air, 
Of  every  new,  affected  grace, 
That  plays  the  eye,  or  decks  the  face, 
The  artful  smile,  that  beauty  warms, 
And  all  th'  hypocrisy  of  charms. 

On  sunday,  see  the  haughty  maid 
In  all  the  glare  of  dress  array'd, 
Deck'd  in  her  most  fantastic  gown, 
Because  a  stranger's  come  to  town. 
Heedless  at  church  she  spends  the  day, 
For  homelier  folks  may  serve  to  pray, 
And  for  devotion  those  may  go, 
Who  can  have  nothing  else  to  do. 
Beauties  at  church  must  spend  their  care  in 
Far  other  work,  than  pious  hearing ; 


72  THE    PROGRESS 

They've  beaux  to  conquer,  bells  to  rival ;. 
To  make  them  serious  were  uncivil. 
For,  like  the  preacher,  they  each  Sunday 
Must  do  their  whole  week's  work  in  one  day. 

As  though  they  meant  to  take  by  blows 
Th'  opposing  galleries  of  beaux,* 
To  church  the  female  squadron  move, 
All  arm'd  with  weapons  used  in  love. 
Like  colour'd  ensigns  gay  and  fair, 
High  caps  rise  floating  in  the  air ; 
Bright  silk  its  varied  radiance  flings, 
And  streamers  wave  in  kissing-strings ; 
Each  bears  th'  artill'ry  of  her  charms, 
Like  training  bands  at  viewing  arms. 

So  once,  in  fear  of  Indian  beating, 
Our  grandsires  bore  their  guns  to  meeting, 
Each  man  equipp'd  on  Sunday  morn, 
With  psalm-book,  shot  and  powder-horn ; 
And  look'd  in  form,  as  all  must  grant, 
Like  th'  ancient,  true  church  militant ; , 


*  Young  people  of  different  sexes  used  then  to  sit  in  the  op- 
posite galleries. 


OF    DULNESS.  73 

Or  fierce,  like  modern  deep  divines, 
Who  fight  with  quills,  like  porcupines. 

Or  let  us  turn  the  style  and  see 
Our  belles  assembled  o'er  their  tea  ; 
Where  folly  sweetens  ev'ry  theme, 
And  scandal  serves  for  sugar'd  cream. 

"  And  did  you  hear  the  news  ?  (they  cry) 
The  court  wear  caps  full  three  feet  high, 
Built  gay  with  wire,  and  at  the  end  on't, 
Red  tassels  streaming  like  a  pendant. 
Well  sure,  it  must  be  vastly  pretty  ; 
'Tis  all  the  fashion  in  the  city. 
And  were  you  at  the  ball  last  night  ? 
Well,  Chloe  look'd  like  any  fright ; 
Her  day  is  over  for  a  toast ; 
She'd  now  do  best  to  act  a  ghost. 
You  saw  our  Fanny  ;  envy  must  own 
She  figures,  since  she  came  from  Boston. 
Good  company  improves  one's  air — 
I  think  the  troops  were  station'd  there. 
Poor  Coelia  ventured  to  the  place  ; 
The  small-pox  quite  has  spoil'd  her  face, 
A  sad  affair,  we  all  confest : 
But  providence  knows  what  is  best. 


74  THE    PROGRESS 

Poor  Dolly  too,  that  writ  the  letter 
Of  love  to  Dick  ;  but  Dick  knew  better  ; 
A  secret  that ;  you'll  not  disclose  it ; 
There's  not  a  person  living  knows  it. 
Sylvia  shone  out,  no  peacock  finer ; 
I  wonder  what  the  fops  see  in  her. 
Perhaps  'tis  true  what  Harry  maintains, 
She  mends  on  intimate  acquaintance." 
Hail  British  lands  !  to  whom  belongs 
Unbounded  privilege  of  tongues, 
Blest  gift  of  freedom,  prized  as  rare 
By  all,  but  dearest  to  the  fair  ; 
From  grandmothers  of  loud  renown, 
Thro'  long  succession  handed  down, 
Thence  with  affection  kind  and  hearty, 
Bequeath'd  unlessen'd  to  poster'ty  ! 
And  all  ye  powers  of  slander,  hail, 
Who  teach  to  censure  and  to  rail ! 
By  you,  kind  aids  to  prying  eyes, 
Minutest  faults  the  fair  one  spies, 
And  specks  in  rival  toasts  can  mind, 
Which  no  one  else  could  ever  find ; 
By  shrewdest  hints  and  doubtful  guesses. 
Tears  reputations  all  in  pieces  ; 


OF    DULNESS.  75 

Points  out  what  smiles  to  sin  advance, 
Finds  assignations  in  a  glance  ; 
And  shews  how  rival  toasts  (you'll  think) 
Break  all  commandments  with  a  wink. 

So  priests*  drive  poets  to  the  lurch 
By  fulminations  of  the  church, 
Mark  in  our  title-page  our  crimes, 
Find  heresies  in  double  rhymes, 
Charge  tropes  with  damnable  opinion, 
And  prove  a  metaphor,  Arminian, 
Peep  for  our  doctrines,  as  at  windows. 
And  pick  out  creeds  of  inuendoes. 

And  now  the  conversation  sporting 
From  scandal  turns  to  trying  fortune. 
Their  future  luck  the  fair  foresee 
In  dreams,  in  cards,  but  most  in  tea. 
Each  finds  of  love  some  future  trophy 
In  settlings  left  of  tea,  or  coffee  ; 


*  On  the  appearance  of  the  first  part  of  this  poem,  some  ol 
the  clergy,  who  supposed  themselves  the  objects  of  the  satire, 
raised  a  clamor  against  the  author,  as  the  calumniator  of  the 
sacred  order,  and  undertook,  from  certain  passages  in  it,  to 
prove  that  he  was  an  infidel,  or  what  they  viewed  as  equally 
heretical,  an  Arminian. 


76  THE    PROGRESS 

There  fate  displays  its  book,  she  believes, 
And  lovers  swim  in  form  of  tea-leaves ; 
Where  oblong  stalks  she  takes  for  beaux, 
And  squares  of  leaves  for  billet-doux  ; 
Gay  balls  in  parboil 'd  fragments  rise, 
And  specks  for  kisses  greet  her  eyes. 

So  Roman  augurs  wont  to  pry 
In  victim's  hearts  for  prophecy, 
Sought  from  the  future  world  advices, 
By  lights  and  lungs  of  sacrifices, 
And  read  with  eyes  more  sharp  than  wizards7 
The  book  of  fate  in  pigeon's  gizzards ; 
Could  tell  what  chief  would  be  survivor. 
From  aspects  of  an  ox's  liver, 
And  cast  what  luck  would  fall  in  fights. 
By  trine  and  quartile  of  its  lights. 

Yet  that  we  fairly  may  proceed, 
We  own  that  ladies  sometimes  read, 
And  grieve,  that  reading  is  confin'd 
To  books  that  poison  all  the  mind  ; 
Novels  and  plays,  (where  shines  display'd 
A  world  that  nature  never  made,) 
Which  swell  their  hopes  with  airy  fancies. 
And  amorous  follies  of  romances  : 


OF    DULNESS.  77 

Inspire  with  dreams  the  witless  maiden 
On  flowery  vales  and  fields  Arcadian, 
And  contsant  hearts  no  chance  can  sever, 
And  mortal  loves,  that  last  for  ever. 

For  while  she  reads  romance,  the  fair  one 
Fails  not  to  think  herself  the  heroine  ; 
For  every  glance,  or  smile,  or  grace, 
She  finds  resemblance  in  her  face, 
Expects  the  world  to  fall  before  her, 
And  every  fop  she  meets  adore  her. 
Thus  HARRIET  reads,  and  reading  really 
Believes  herself  a  young  Pamela, 
The  high-wrought  whim,  the  tender  strain 
Elate  her  mind  and  turn  her  brain  : 
Before  her  glass,  with  smiling  grace, 
She  views  the  wonders  of  her  face  ; 
There  stands  in  admiration  moveless, 
And  hopes  a  Grandison,  or  Lovelace.* 

Then  shines  she  forth,  and  round  her  hovers 
The  powder'd  swarm  of  bowing  lovers ; 


*  Richardson's  novels  were  then  in  high  request.     Young 
misses  were  enraptured  with  the  love-scenes,  and  beaux  admir- 
ed the  character  of  Lovelace. 
11* 


78  THE    PROGRESS 

By  flames  of  love  attracted  thither, 
Fops,  scholars,  dunces,  cits,  together. 
No  lamp  exposed  in  nightly  skies, 
E'er  gather'd  such  a  swarm  of  flies  ; 
Or  flame  in  tube  electric  draws 
Such  thronging  multitudes  of  straws. 
(For  I  shall  still  take  similes 
From  fire  electric  when  I  please.*) 

With  vast  confusion  swells  the  sound, 
When  all  the  coxcombs  flutter  round. 
What  undulation  wide  of  bows  ! 
What  gentle  oaths  and  am'rous  vows  ! 
What  double  entendres  all  so  smart ! 
What  sighs  hot-piping  from  the  heart ! 
What  jealous  leers !  what  angry  brawls 
To  gain  the  lady's  hand  at  balls  ! 
What  billet-doux,  brimful  of  flame  ! 
Acrostics  lined  with  HARRIET'S  name ! 
What  compliments,  o'er-strain'd  with  telling 
Sad  lies  of  Venus  and  of  Helen  ! 


*  Certain  small  critics  had  triumphed  on  discovering,  that 
the  writer  had  several  times  drawn  his  similes  from  the  phae- 
nomena  of  electricity. 


OF    DULNESS.  79 

What  wits  half-crack'd  with  commonplaces 

On  angels,  goddesses  and  graces  ! 

On  fires  of  love  what  witty  puns  ! 

What  similes  of  stars  and  suns  ! 

What  cringing,  dancing,  ogling,  sighing, 

What  languishing  for  love,  and  dying ! 

For  lovers  of  all  things  that  breathe 
Are  most  exposed  to  sudden  death, 
And  many  a  swain  much  famed  in  rhymes 
Hath  died  some  hundred  thousand  times  : 
Yet  though  love  oft  their  breath  may  stifle, 
'Tis  sung  it  hurts  them  but  a  trifle  ; 
The  swain  revives  by  equal  wonder, 
As  snakes  will  join  when  cut  asunder, 
And  often  murder'd  still  survives ; 
No  cat  hath  half  so  many  lives. 

While  round  the  fair,  the  coxcombs  throng 
With  oaths,  cards,  billet-doux,  and  song, 
She  spread  her  charms  and  wish'd  to  gain 
The  heart  of  every  simple  swain ; 
To  all  with  gay,  alluring  air, 
She  hid  in  smiles  the  fatal  snare, 
For  sure  that  snare  must  fatal  prove, 
Where  falsehood  wears  the  form  of  love  ; 


80  THE    PROGRESS 

Full  oft  with  pleasing  transport  hung 
On  accents  of  each  flattering  tongue, 
And  found  a  pleasure  most  sincere 
From  each  erect,  attentive  ear ; 
For  pride  was  her's,  that  oft  with  ease 
Despised  the  man  she  wish'd  to  please. 
She  loved  the  chace,  but  scorn'd  the  prey, 
And  fish'd  for  hearts  to  throw  away ; 
Joy'd  at  the  tale  of  piercing  darts, 
And  tort'ring  flames  and  pining  hearts, 
And  pleased  perused  the  billet-doux, 
That  said,  "  I  die  for  love  of  you  ;" 
Found  conquest  in  each  gallant's  sighs 
And  blest  the  murders  of  her  eyes. 

So  doctors  live  but  by  the  dead, 
And  pray  for  plagues,  as  daily  bread  ; 
Thank  providence  for  colds  and  fevers, 
And  hold  consumptions  special  favors ; 
And  think  diseases  kindly  made, 
As  blest  materials  of  their  trade. 

'Twould  weary  all  the  pow'rs  of  verse 
Their  amorous  speeches  to  rehearse, 
Their  compliments,  whose  vain  parade 
Turns  Venus  to  a  kitchen-maid  ; 


OF    DULNESS. 

With  high  pretence  of  love  and  honor, 
They  vent  their  folly  all  upon  her, 
(Ev'n  as  the  scripture  precept  saith, 
More  shall  be  given  to  him  that  hath ;) 
Tell  her  how  wond'rous  fair  they  deem  her, 
How  handsome  all  the  world  esteem  her  ; 
And  while  they  flatter  and  adore, 
She  contradicts  to  call  for  more. 

"  And  did  they  say  I  was  so  handsome  ? 
My  looks — I'm  sure  no  one  can  fancy  'em. 
'Tis  true  we're  all  as  we  were  framed, 
And  none  have  right  to  be  ashamed ; 
But  as  for  beauty — all  can  tell 
I  never  fancied  I  look'd  well ; 
I  were  a  fright,  had  I  a  grain  less. 
You're  only  joking,  Mr.  Brainless." 

Yet  beauty  still  maintain'd  her  sway, 
And  bade  the  proudest  hearts  obey ; 
Ev'n  sense  her  glances  could  beguile, 
And  vanquish'd  wisdom  with  a  smile ; 
While  merit  bow'd  and  found  no  arms, 
To  oppose  the  conquests  of  her  charms, 
Caught  all  those  bashful  fears,  that  place 
The  mask  of  folly  on  the  face, 


82  THE    PROGRESS 

X 

That  awe,  that  robs  our  airs  of  ease, 
And  blunders,  when  it  hopes  to  please  ; 
For  men  of  sense  will  always  prove 
The  most  forlorn  of  fools  in  love. 
The  fair  esteem'd,  admired,  'tis  true, 
And  praised — 'tis  all  coquettes  can  do. 

And  when  deserving  lovers  came, 
Believed  her  smiles  and  own'd  their  flame, 
Her  bosom  thrill'd,  with  joy  affected 
T'  increase  the  list,  she  had  rejected ; 
While  pleased  to  see  her  arts  prevail, 
To  each  she  told  the  self-same  tale. 
She  wished  in  truth  they  ne'er  had  seen  her, 
And  feign'd  what  grief  it  oft  had  giv'n  her, 
And  sad,  of  tender-hearted  make, 
Grieved  they  were  ruin'd  for  her  sake. 
'Twas  true,  she  own'd  on  recollection, 
She'd  shown  them  proofs  of  kind  affection  : 
But  they  mistook  her  whole  intent, 
For  friendship  was  the  thing  she  meant. 
She  wonder'd  how  their  hearts  could  move  'em 
So  strangely  as  to  think  she'd  love  'em ; 
She  thought  her  purity  above 
The  low  and  sensual  flames  of  love  ; 


OF    DULNESS.  83 

And  yet  they  made  such  sad  ado, 

She  wish'd  she  could  have  loved  them  too. 

She  pitied  them,  and  as  a  friend 

She  prized  them  more  than  all  mankind, 

And  begg'd  them  not  their  hearts  to  vex, 

Or  hang  themselves,  or  break  their  necks, 

Told  them  'twould  make  her  life  uneasy, 

If  they  should  run  forlorn,  or  crazy ; 

Objects  of  love  she  could  not  deem  'em  ; 

But  did  most  marv'lously  esteem  'em. 

For  'tis  esteem,  coquettes  dispense 
Tow'rd  learning,  genius,  worth  and  sense, 
Sincere  affection,  truth  refined, 
And  all  the  merit  of  the  mind. 

But  love's  the  passion  they  experience 
For  gold,  and  dress,  and  gay  appearance. 

For  ah  !  what  magic  charms  and  graces 
Are  found  in  golden  suits  of  laces  ! 
What  going  forth  of  hearts  and  souls 
Tow'rd  glare  of  gilded  button-holes ! 
What  lady's  heart  can  stand  its  ground 
'Gainst  hats  with  glittering  edging  bound  f 
While  vests  and  shoes  and  hose  conspire, 
And  gloves  and  ruffles  fan  the  fire. 


84  THE    PROGRESS 

And  broadcloths,  cut  by  tailor's  arts, 
Spread  fatal  nets  for  female  hearts. 

And  oh,  what  charms  more  potent  shine. 
Drawn  from  the  dark  Peruvian  mine  ! 
What  spells  and  talismans  of  Venus 
Are  found  in  dollars,  crowns  and  guineas ! 
In  purse  of  gold,  a  single  stiver 
Beats  all  the  darts  in  Cupid's  quiver. 
What  heart  so  constant,  but  must  veer, 
When  drawn  by  thousand  pounds  a  year  !     / 
How  many  fair  ones  ev'ry  day  / 

To  houses  fine  have  fall'n  a  prey, 
Been  forced  on  stores  of  goods  to  fix, 
Or  carried  off  in  coach  and  six  ! 
For  Ccelia,  merit  found  no  dart ; 
Five  thousand  sterling  broke  her  heart, 
So  witches,  hunters  say,  confound  'em, 
For  silver  bullets  only  wound  'em. 

But  now  the  time  was  come,  our  fair 
Should  all  the  plagues  of  passion  share, 
And  after  ev'ry  heart  she'd  won, 
By  sad  disaster  lose  her  own. 
So  true  the  ancient  proverb  sayeth, 
'  Edge-tools  are  dang'rous  things  to  play  with  ;' 


OF    DULNESS.  - 

The  fisher,  ev'ry  gudgeon  hooking, 
May  chance  himself  to  catch  a  ducking ; 
The  child  that  plays  with  fire,  in  pain 
Will  burn  its  fingers-now  and  then ; 
And  from  the  dutchess  to  the  laundress, 
Coquettes  are  seldom  salamanders. 

For  lo  !  Dick  Hairbrain  heaves  in  sight, 
From  foreign  climes  returning  bright ; 
He  danced,  he  sung  to  admiration, 
He  swore  to  gen'ral  acceptation, 
In  airs  and  dress  so  great  his  merit, 
He  shone — no  lady's  eyes  could  bear  it. 
Poor  HARRIET  saw  ;  her  heart  was  stouter  5 
She  gather'd  all  her  smiles  about  her ; 
Hoped  by  her  eyes  to  gain  the  laurels, 
And  charm  him  down,  as  snakes  do  squirrels. 
So  prized  his  love  and  wish'd  to  win  it, 
That  all  her  hopes  were  center'd  in  it ; 
And  took  such  pains  his  heart  to  move, 
Herself  fell  desp'rately  in  love  ; 
Though  great  her  skill  in  am'rous  tricks, 
She  could  not  hope  to  equal  Dick's : 
Her  fate  she  ventured  on  his  trial, 

And  lost  her  birthright  of  denial. 
12* 


86  THE    PROGRESS 

And  here  her  brightest  hopes  miscarry  ; 
For  Dick  was  too  gallant  to  marry. 
He  own'd  she'd  charms  for  those  who  need  'em, 
But  he,  be  sure,  was  all  for  freedom  ; 
So,  left  in  hopeless  flames  to  burn, 
Gay  Dick  esteem'd  her  in  her  turn. 
In  love,  a  lady  once  given  over 
Is  never  fated  to  recover, 
Doom'd  to  indulge  her  troubled  fancies, 
And  feed  her  passion  by  romances  ; 
And  always  amorous,  always  changing, 
From  coxcomb  still  to  coxcomb  ranging, 
Finds  in  her  heart  a  void,  which  still 
Succeeding  beaux  can  never  fill : 

As  shadows  vary  o'er  a  glass, 

Each  holds  in  turn  the  vacant  place ; 

She  doats  upon  her  earliest  pain, 

And  following  thousands  loves  in  vain. 
Poor  HARRIET  now  hath  had  her  day ; 

No  more  the  beaux  confess  her  sway  ; 

New  beauties  push  her  from  the  stage ; 

She  trembles  at  th'  approach  of  age, 

And  starts  to  view  the  alter'd  face, 

That  wrinkles  at  her  in  her  glass  : 


OF    DULNESS.  87 

So  Satan,  in  the  monk's  tradition, 
Fear'd,  when  he  met  his  apparition. 

At  length  her  name  each  coxcomb  cancels 
From  standing  lists  of  toasts  and  angels  ; 
And  slighted  where  she  shone  before, 
A  grace  and  goddess  now  no  more, 
Despised  by  all,  and  doom'd  to  meet 
Her  lovers  at  her  rival's  feet, 
She  flies  assemblies,  shuns  the  ball, 
And  cries  out,  vanity,  on  all ; 
Affects  to  scorn  the  tinsel-shows 
Of  glittering  belles  and  gaudy  beaux ; 
Nor  longer  hopes  to  hide  by  dress 
The  tracks  of  age  upon  her  face. 
Now  careless  grown  of  airs  polite, 
Her  noonday  nightcap  meets  the  sight ; 
Her  hair  uncomb'd  collects  together, 
With  ornaments  of  many  a  feather  5 
Her  stays  for  easiness  thrown  by, 
Her  rumpled  handkerchief  awry, 
A  careless  figure  half  undress'd, 
(The  reader's  wits  may  guess  the  rest ;) 
All  points  of  dress  and  neatness  carried, 
As  though  she'd  been  a  twelvemonth  married ; 


88  THE    PROGRESS 

She  spends  her  breath,  as  years  prevail, 

At  this  sad  wicked  world  to  rail, 

To  slander  all  her  sex  impromptu, 

And  wonder  what  the  times  will  come  to. 

Tom  Brainless,  at  the  close  of  last  year, 
Had  been  six  years  a  rev'rend  Pastor, 
And  now  resolved,  to  smooth  his  life, 
To  seek  the  blessing  of  a  wife. 
His  brethren  saw  his  amorous  temper, 
And  recommended  fair  Miss  Simper, 
Who  fond,  they  heard,  of  sacred  truth, 
Had  left  her  levities  of  youth, 
Grown  fit  for  ministerial  union, 
And  grave,  as  Christian's  wife  in  Bunyan. 

On  this  he  rigg'd  him  in  his  best, 
And  got  his  old  grey  wig  new  dress'd, 
Fix'd  on  his  suit  of  sable  stuffs, 
And  brush'd  the  powder  from  the  cuffs, 
With  black  silk  stockings,  yet  in  being, 
The  same  he  took  his  first  degree  in ; 
Procured  a  horse  of  breed  from  Europe, 
And  learn'd  to  mount  him  by  the  stirrup. 
And  set  forth  fierce  to  court  the  maid  ; 
His  white-hair'd  Deacon  went  for  aid .; 


OF    DULNESS.  89 

And  on  the  right,  in  solemn  mode, 
The  Reverend  Mr.  Brainless  rode. 
Thus  grave,  the  courtly  pair  advance, 
Like  knight  and  squire  in  famed  romance. 
The  priest  then  bow'd  in  sober  gesture, 
And  all  in  scripture  terms  address'd  her  ; 
He'd  found,  for  reasons  amply  known, 
It  was  not  good  to  be  alone, 
And  thought  his  duty  led  to  trying 
The  great  command  of  multiplying ; 
So  with  submission,  by  her  leave, 
He'd  come  to  look  him  out  an  Eve, 
And  hoped,  in  pilgrimage  of  life, 
To  find  an  helpmate  in  a  wife, 
A  wife  discreet  and  fair  withal, 
To  make  amends  for  Adam's  fall. 

In  short,  the  bargain  finish'd  soon, 
A  reverend  Doctor  made  them  one. 

And  now  the  joyful  people  rouze  all 
To  celebrate  their  priest's  espousal ; 
And  first,  by  kind  agreement  set, 
In  case  their  priest  a  wife  could  get, 
The  parish  vote  him  five  pounds  clear, 
T'  increase  his  salary  every  year. 


90        THE  PROGRESS  OF  DULNESS. 

Then  swift  the  tag-rag  gentry  come 
To  welcome  Madam  Brainless  home  ; 
Wish  their  good  Parson  joy  ;  with  pride 
In  order  round  salute  the  bride : 
At  home,  at  visits  and  at  meetings, 
To  Madam  all  allow  precedence  ; 
Greet  her  at  church  with  rev'rence  due. 
And  next  the  pulpit  fix  her  pew. 


END    OF    PART    THIRD. 


AN  ODE. 


THE  GENIUS  OF  AMERICA ; 

AN  ODE. 


I. 

T?  HEN  Discord  high  her  sable  flag  unveil'd, 

And  British  fury  drew  the  fatal  sword,* 
Wide  o'er  the  plains,  from  Concord's  deadly  field, 

The  conflict  raged  with  many  an  inroad  gored  rl 
Till  now  the  Sun,  declining  to  the  main, 

Forsook  the  circuit  of  the  ethereal  way, 
And  slow  evolving  o'er  the  carnaged  plain, 

Sulphureous  vapors  dimm'd  the  falling  day  ; 
Th'  encrimson'd  rays  in  mournful  splendor  rise, 
And  tinged  with  blood  ascend  the  curtains  of  the  skies. 


THE  first  thirteen  stanzas  of  this  ode  were  composed  in  1777, 
after  the  capture  of  Burgoyne  and  his  army  ;  the  conclusion  was  ad- 
ded in  1778,  on  the  expulsion  of  the  British  forces  from  the  conti- 
nent to  Staten  and  New- York  islands,  after  the  battle  of  Monmouth. 


*  At  the  battle  of  Lexington. 

f the  battle  swerved 

With  many  an  inroad  gored. Milton. 

13* 


94  THE    GENIUS 

II. 

The  savage  tumult  of  the  battle  o'er, 

On  that  fair  hill,  near  Boston's  fated  strand, 
That  rears  her  beacon  in  th'  aerial  tower, 

Rose  the  sad  Genius  of  the  Western  land. 
Torn  were  the  sacred  laurels  on  his  head ; 

His  purple  robes  waved  careless  to  the  wind  ; 
Aloft  his  arm  the  glittering  sword  display'd, 

For  slaughter'd  fields  in  just  revenge  design'd ; 
His  breast  in  anguish  heaved  the  heart-felt  sigh, 
And  tears  of  vengeance  burst,  and  lighten'd  in  his  eye. 

III. 

"  'Tis  done,  he  cried — in  vain  for  human  weal, 

With  suppliant  hand  the  palm  of  peace  to  rear ! 
Hear  then,  oh  Britain,  hear  my  last  appeal 

To  heaven's  dread  justice  and  the  flames  of  war. 
Then  come  in  all  the  terrors  of  thy  power, 

Stretch  the  long  line  and  darken  o'er  the  main, 
Bid  the  hoarse  tempest  of  the  combat  roar, 

And  hosts  infuriate  shake  the  shuddering  plain ; 
League  in  thy  savage  cause  the  foes  of  life, 
The  Hessian's  barb'rous  blade,  the  Indian's  murder- 
ing knife. 


OF    AMERICA.  95 

IV. 

I  see  my  hills  with  banded  warriors  spread ; 

On  every  brow  the  lines  of  battle  rise  ; 
Terrific  lightnings  strew  the  fields  with  dead, 

And  adverse  thunders  echo  through  the  skies.* 
The  vales  of  Charlestown,  sooth'd  in  bliss  no  more, 

Sad  wars  affright  and  groans  of  parting  breath  ; 
Their  grass  shall  wither  in  the  streams  of  gore, 

And  flow'rs  bloom  sicklied  with  the  dews  of  death ; 
O'er  all  her  domes  the  bursting  flames  aspire, 
Wrap  the  wide  walls  in  smoke  and  streak  the  heav- 
ens with  fire. 

V. 

And  thou,  while  Glory  on  thy  youthful  bier 

Lights  her  pale  lamp,  in  robes  funereal  dress'd, 
And  cold  sods,  wet  with  many  a  falling  tear, 

Enclose  the  tomb,  where  patriot  honors  rest ; 
Thou  too,  my  Warren,f  from  thy  ghastly  wound, 

With  life's  last  stream  thy  native  soil  shalt  lave  ; 
Enough,  thy  years  that  every  virtue  crown'd, 

That  every  muse's  laurel  decks  thy  grave  ; 


*  Battle  at  Bunker-hill. 

f  Major  General  Joseph  Warren  of  Boston,  who  fell  at  the  head 
of  the  Massachusetts  troops.      Tn  him  were  united  the  gentleman, 


^O  THE    GENIUS 

Enough  that  Liberty  resounds  thy  name, 

First  martyr  in  her  cause,  and  heir  of  deathless  fame  ! 

VI. 

Nor  fall  my  sons  in  vain  !  with  awful  sound 
Fraternal  blood  invokes  th'  attentive  skies. 

Their  shades  shall  wake,  and  from  the  gory  ground, 
.Avenging  guardians  of  my  rights,  arise  ; 

Shall  guide  the  gallant  hero  to  the  field, 
With  pale  affright  the  haughty  foe  appal, 

Stretch  o'er  my  banner'd  hosts  the  viewless  shield, 
Edge  the  keen  sword  and  wing  th'  unerring  ball. 

What  piles  of  hostile  chiefs,  in  slaughter  drown'd, 

Fill  the   wide  scenes  of  death  and  purple  all  the 
ground. 

VII. 

in  vain  rude  nature  spread  th'  impervious  wood,* 
And  rear'd  th'  eternal  barriers  of  the  hills, 


the  scholar,  the  patriot  and  the  hero.  There  were  few  from  whose 
courage  and  talents  more  was  expected,  none  whose  loss  was  more 
universally  lamented. 

*  March  of  the  American  army  through  the  wilderness  to  Que- 
bec— Repulse  and  death  of  General  Montgomery. 

opposuit  Natura  Alpemq  ;  nivemq ; 

Diducit  scopulos  &c.  Juvenal,  salir.  10. 


OF    AMERICA.  97 

Wove  the  wild  thicket,  pour'd  the  pathless  flood 
Through  marshes,  deep  with  congregated  rills ! 

My  ardent  warriors  pierce  the  desperate  lair, 
Where  prowls  the  savage  panther  for  his  prey  ; 

Now  o'er  the  mounds,  and  lessening  into  air, 

The  daring  wand'rers  scale  th'  adventurous  way  ; 

Toil,  famine,  danger,  bar  their  course  in  vain 

To  proud  Quebec's  high  walls,  and  Abraham's  hap- 
less plain. 

VIII. 

Ye  plains,  renown'd  by  many  a  hero's  tomb, 

Whence  Wolf's  immortal  spirit  took  its  flight, 
A  soul  as  brave,  with  like  relentless  doom, 

Speeds  to  the  attack  and  tempts  the  embattled 

height ! 
Ah,  stay,  Montgomery !  In  the  frowning  wall    [spare 

Grim  Death  lies  ambush'd  !    Stay  thy  course  and 
That  sacred  life,  too  valued  yet  to  fall ; 

Enough  thy  sword  has  lighten'd  in  the  war, 
When  famed  St.  John's*  beheld  thy  banners  rise, 
Wave  o'er  his  subject  vales  and  wanton  in  the  skies. 


*  A  British  fortress  in  Canada,  north  of  Lake  Champlain. 


98  THE    GENIUS 

IX. 

Boast  not,  proud  Albion !  awed  by  no  dismay, 

My  warriors  crowd  the  fierce  conflicting  scene. 
What  dreadless  chieftains  lead  their  long  array, 

Death-daring  Putnam  and  unconquer'd  Greene. 
And  is  my  Washington  unknown  to  thee, 

Whose  early  footsteps  traced  the  paths  of  fame, 
Shielded,  from  fate,  thy  routed  bands  to  flee, 

Arid  screen'd  thy  Gage,*  to  future  deeds  of  shame! 
Heav'n  calls  his  sword  t'  assert  my  injured  cause, 
Avenger  of  my  wrongs  and  guardian  of  my  laws. 

X. 

Oh,  born  thy  country  and  her  rights  to  save, 
Arise  !  the  thunders  of  the  war  to  wield  ; 

And  through  the  night  and  ocean's  awful  wave, 
Guide  the  frail  bark  and  teach  the  storm  to  yield. 

When  terror  through  each  coward  breast  shall  roll, 
And  half  my  boasting  champions  woo  despair, 


*  At  the  battle  of  Monongahela,  where  General  Braddock  was 
defeated  and  slain.  Washington,  then  a  Colonel,  had  the  principal 
merit  of  conducting  the  retreat  and  saving  the  remains  of  the  British 
army. 


OF    AMERICA.  99 

Thy  daring  genius  and  unvanquish'd  soul 

Sustain  my  triumphs  and  inspire  the  war ; 
Thy  single  sword,  like  Moses'  lifted  hand, 
Sheds  conquest  on  my  cause  and  guards  the  sinking 
land. 

XI. 

And  lo,  where  Victory*  spreads  her  eagle  wings, 

O'er  Trenton's  stream  and  Princeton's  classic  plain ; 
With  warlike  shouts  th'  aerial  concave  rings, 

O'er  legions  captived  and  the  piles  of  slain  ! 
Through  varying  dangers,  with  unequal  force, 

The  godlike  hero  guides  the  dubious  day, 
Foils  the  proud  Howe,  and  checks  his  haughty  course, 

With  Fabian  art,  victorious  by  delay. 
O'er  loss,  o'er  fortune  and  th'  insulting  foes, 
His  innate  virtue  shines,  his  conq'ring  courage  glows. 

XII. 

Lo,f  from  the  north,  what  countless  myriads  roll, 
Nations  of  war  and  legions  of  the  brave, 


*  Capture  of  the  Hessians  at  Trenton,  and  of  a  detachment  of  the 
British  at  Princeton. 

f  Capture  of  General  Burgoyne  and  his  army. 


100  THE    GENIUS 

With  all  the  sable  tribes  of  savage  soul, 

From  frozen  climes  and  Huron's  wintry  wave ! 

The  fierce  Burgoyne  drives  on  th'  infuriate  train, 
Sounds  the  dire  death-song*  through  the  frowning 
wood. 

Vain  threat !  my  gath'ring  sons  thy  pomp  disdain, 
Thy  tongue  of  thunder  and  thy  hands  of  blood ; 

Of  small  avail,  when  doom'd  in  arms  t'  engage 

My  Gates's  caution  calm,  my  Lincoln's  noble  rage. 

XIII. 

Dig  deep  in  earth  (nor  fated  yet  to  fall) 

Stretch  thy  huge  ramparts  in  opposing  line : 
My  daring  bands  with  heav'n-born  ardor  join, 

Dive  the  low  trench  and  climb  the  baffled  wall. 
Thy  troops  in  wild  confusion  through  the  field, 

Sustain  no  more  the  victor's  angry  face  ; 
Nor  force  nor  art  avail.     They  fall,  they  yield, 

Or  wing  with  coward  flight  the  hasty  race. 
On  every  side  my  hardy  yeomen  rise,  [prize. 

And  lead  thy  captive  host,  vain  Albion's  pride,  their 


*  See  Burgoyne's  proclamation  at  the  commencement  of  his 
northern  invasion — a  compound  of  sanguinary  threats  and  ostenta- 
tious bombast. 


OP    AMERICA.  101 

XIV. 

Hark,  from  th'  embattled  South  what  new  alarms  !* 

What  streaming  ensigns  paint  the  troubled  air! 
On  Monmouth  plains  the  boasting  Clinton  arms. 

And  leads  to  fate  the  whole  collected  war. 
Hast  thou  forgot  how  once  thy  warriors  fled, 

Thine  early  shame  on  Charleston's  fatal  wave,t 
When  terror  bade  thy  shatter'd  ships  recede, 

And  call  the  winds  to  waft  thee  from  the  grave  ? 
Beat  not  thy  pulses  with  accustom'd  fear,        [there. 
And  dread'st  thou  not  thy  foe  ?  for  Washington  is 

XV. 

The  deep  artillery,  with  tremendous  roar, 

The  sky's  blue  vault  in  deathful  prelude  rend. 
What  clouds  of  smoke  involve  the  darken'd  shore  ! 

Through  the  stunn'd  air  what  flaky  flames  ascend ! 
Conflicting  thousands  shake  the  shuddering  ground  j 

Keen  vollies  echoing  rock  the  mountains  wide, 
Afar  the  startled  Del'ware  hears  the  sound. 

And  Hudson  trembles  with  recoiling  tide. 


*  Battle  of  Monmouth. 

f  Defeat  of  the   British  under  General  Clinton,  and  repulse  of 
their  fleet  under  Admiral  Parker,  in  their  attempt  on  Charleston  in 
South  Carolina,  hi  1776. 
14* 


102  THE    GENIUS    OF    AMERICA. 

Scarce  the  dire  shock  my  fainting  van  sustain, 
And  Lee*  appall'd  retires,  and  yields  the  dubious 
plain. 

XVI. 

When  lo,  my  favor'd  Chief  appears  to  save 

From  fell  destruction's  all-devouring  sweep  ; 
As  the  sun  rising  o'er  the  turbid  wave, 

When  night  with  storms  hath  vex'd  the  angry  deep. 
Th'  astonish'd  foes  maintain  the  fight  no  more, 

Fierce  on  their  rear  my  rushing  host  impends, 
Their  falling  legions  dye  the  fields  with  gore, 

Till  dusky  eve,  their  better  hope,  descends  ; 
Through  fav'ring  darkness  fly  the  broken  train, 
Steal  trembling  to  their  ships,  and  hide  behind  the 
main. 


*  General  Charles  Lee,  a  British  adventurer,  who  had  joined  the 
Americans,  and  commanded  the  front  division  in  this  action.  For 
his  conduct  on  that  occasion,  he  was  suspended  for  a  year  from  com- 
mand, and  never  afterward  employed  in  the  service. 


ADDRESSED  f  O  MESSRS.  DWIGHT  AND  BARLOW. 


LINES 

ADDRESSED    TO 
MESSRS.  D WIGHT  AND  BARLOW, 

On  the  projected  publication  of  their  Poems  in  London.* 
December  1775. 


with  the  vision  of  a  deathless  name, 
You  seek  perhaps  a  flowery  road  to  fame  ; 
Where  distant  far  from  ocean's  stormy  roar, 
Wind  the  pure  vales  and  smiles  the  tranquil  shore, 
Where  hills  sublime  in  vernal  sweetness  rise, 
And  opening  prospects  charm  the  wand'ring  eyes, 
While  the  gay  dawn,  propitious  on  your  way, 
Crimsons  the  east  and  lights  the  orient  day. 

Yet  vain  the  hope,  that  waits  the  promised  bays, 
Though  conscious  merit  claim  the  debt  of  praise  ; 
Still  sneering  Folly  wars  with  every  art, 
Still  ambush'd  Envy  aims  the  secret  dart, 


*  Dwight's  Conquest  of  Canaan,  and  Barlow's  Vision  of  Colum- 
bus, afterwards  enlarged  and  entitled,  The  Columbiad.  This  de- 
signed publication  was  prevented  by  the  revolutionary  war. 


106  TO    MESSRS.    DWIGHT 

Through  hosts  of  foes  the  course  of  glory  lies, 
Toil  wins  the  field  and  hazard  gains  the  prize. 

For  dangers  wait,  and  fears  of  unknown  name, 
The  long,  the  dreary  pilgrimage  of  fame ; 
Each  bard  invades,  each  judging  dunce  reviews, 
And  every  critic  wars  with  every  Muse. 

As  horror  gloom'd  along  the  dark'ning  path, 
When  famed  Ulysses*  trod  the  vales  of  death ; 
Terrific  voices  rose,  and  all  around 
Dire  forms  sprang  flaming  from  the  rocking  ground ; 
Fierce  Cerberus  lour'd,  and  yawning  o'er  his  way, 
Hell  flash'd  the  terrors  of  infernal  day ; 
The  scornful  fiends  opposed  his  bold  career, 
And  sung  in  shrieks  the  prelude  of  his  fear. 
Thus  at  each  trembling  step,  the  Poet  hears 
Dread  groans  and  hisses  murmur  in  his  ears  ; 
In  every  breeze  a  shaft  malignant  flies, 
Cerberean  forms  in  every  rival  rise  ; 
There  yawning  wide  before  his  path  extends 
Th'  infernal  gulph,  where  Critics  are  the  fiends ; 
From  gloomy  Styx  pale  conflagrations  gleam, 
And  dread  oblivion  rolls  in  Lethe's  stream. 


*  Homer's  Odyssey,  Book  1 1. 


AND    BARLOW.  107 

And  see,  where  yon  proud  Isle*  her  shores  extends 
The  cloud  of  Critics  on  your  Muse  descends ! 
From  every  side,  with  deadly  force,  shall  steer 
The  fierce  Review,  the  censuring  Gazetteer, 
Light  Magazines,  that  pointless  jests  supply. 
And  quick  Gazettes,  that  coin  the  current  lie. 
Each  coffee-house  shall  catch  the  loud  alarms, 
The  Temple  swarm,  and  Grub-street  wake  to  arms. 
As  vultures,  sailing  through  the  darken'd  air, 
Whet  their  keen  talons,  and  their  beaks  prepare, 
O'er  warring  armies  wait  th'  approaching  fray, 
And  sate  their  wishes  on  the  future  prey  : 
Each  cens'rer  thus  the  tempting  lure  pursues, 
And  hangs  o'er  battles  of  your  Epic  muse, 


*  Great-Britain. See  the  British  Reviewers,  for  the  fulfilment 

of  this  prediction. 

The  English  scribblers  began  their  abuse,  by  asserting  that  all 
the  Americans  were  cowards.  Subsequent  events  have  taught  them 
a  reverent  silence  on  that  topic.  They  now  labour,  with  equal  wit 
and  eloquence,  to  prove  our  universal  ignorance  and  stupidity. — 
The  present  writers  in  the  Quarterly  Review  have  made  it  the  ve- 
hicle of  insult  and  slander  upon  our  genius  and  manners.  Wheth- 
er tiiey  will  be  more  successful  with  the  pen,  than  with  the  sword, 
in  prostrating  America  at  their  feet,  Time,  the  ancient  arbiter,  will 
determine  in  due  season. 


108  TO    MESSRS.    DWIGHT 

The  pamper'd  critic  feeds  on  slaughter'd  names. 
And  each  new  bard  a  welcome  feast  proclaims. 

Such  men  to  charm,  could  Homer's  muse  avail, 
Who  read  to  cavil,  and  who  write  to  rail ; 
When  ardent  genius  pours  the  bold  sublime, 
Carp  at  the  style,  or  nibble  at  the  rhyme ; 
Misstate  your  thoughts,  misconstrue  your  design, 
And  cite,  as  samples,  every  feebler  line  ? 
To  praise  your  muse  be  your  admirer's  care ; 
Her  faults  alone  the  critics  make  their  share. 
Where  you  succeed,  beyond  their  sphere  you've  flown, 
But  where  you  fail,  the  realm  is  all  their  own. 
By  right  they  claim  whatever  faults  are  found, 
For  nonsense  trespasses  on  critic  ground ; 
By  right  they  claim  the  blunders  of  your  lays, 
As  lords  of  manors  seize  on  waifs  and  strays. 

Yet  heed  not  these,  but  join  the  sons  of  song, 
And  scorn  the  censures  of  the  envious  throng  ; 
Prove  to  the  world,  in  these  new-dawning  skies. 
What  genius  kindles  and  what  arts  arise ; 
What  fav'ring  Muses  lent  their  willing  aid, 
As  gay  through  Pindus'  flowery  paths  you  stray'd ; 
While  in  your  strains  the  purest  morals  flow'd. 
Rules  to  the  great,  and  lessons  to  the  good. 


AND    BARLOW.  109 

All  Virtue's  friends  are  yours.     Disclose  the  lays ; 
Your  country's  heroes  claim  the  debt  of  praise ; 
Fame  shall  assent,  and  future  years  admire 
Barlow's  strong  flight,  and  Dwight's  Homeric  fire. 


15* 


ODE  TO  SLEEP. 

1773. 
I. 

COME,  gentle  Sleep ! 

Balm  of  my  wounds  and  softner  of  my  woes, 
And  lull  my  weary  heart  in  sweet  repose, 
And  bid  my  sadden'd  soul  forget  to  weep, 
And  close  the  tearful  eye ; 
While  dewy  eve  with  solemn  sweep, 
Hath  drawn  her  fleecy  mantle  o'er  the  sky, 

And  chaced  afar,  adown  th'  ethereal  way, 
The  din  of  bustling  care  and  gaudy  eye  of  day. 

II. 

Come,  but  thy  leaden  sceptre  leave, 
Thy  opiate  rod,  thy  poppies  pale, 
Dipp'd  in  the  torpid  fount  of  Lethe's  stream, 

That  shroud  with  night  each  intellectual  beam, 
And  quench  th'  immortal  fire,  in  deep  Oblivion's 

wave. 
Yet  draw  the  thick  impervious  veil 


114  ODE    TO    SLEEP. 

O'er  all  the  scenes  of  tasted  woe ; 
Command  each  cypress  shade  to  flee ; 
Between  this  toil-worn  world  and  me,        [low. 
Display  thy  curtain  broad,  and  hide  the  realms  be- 
lli. 

Descend,  and  graceful  in  thy  hand, 

With  thee  bring  thy  magic  wand, 

And  thy  pencil,  taught  to  glow 

In  all  the  hues  of  Iris'  bow. 

And  call  thy  bright,  aerial  train, 
Each  fairy  form  and  visionary  shade, 

That  in  the  Eiysian  land  of  dreams, 

The  flower-enwoven  banks  along, 
Or  bowery  maze,  that  shades  the  purple  streams, 
Where   gales  of  fragrance  breathe  th'  enamourM 

song, 

In  more  than  mortal  charms  array'd, 
People  the  airy  vales  and  revel  in  thy  reign. 

IV. 

But  drive  afar  the  haggard  crew, 
That  haunt  the  guilt-encrimson'd  bed, 

Or  dim  before  the  frenzied  view 
Stalk  with  slow  and  sullen  tread ; 


ODE   TO    SLEEP.  115 

While  furies  with  infernal  glare, 
Wave  their  pale  torches  through  the  troubled  air ; 

And  deep  from  Darkness'  inmost  womb, 
Sad  groans  dispart  the  icy  tomb, 

And  bid  the  sheeted  spectre  rise, 
Mid  shrieks  and  fiery  shapes  and  deadly  fantasies. 

V. 

Come  and  loose  the  mortal  chain, 

That  binds  to  clogs  of  clay  th'  ethereal  wing  ; 
And  give  th'  astonished  soul  to  rove, 
Where  never  sunbeam  stretch'd  its  wide  domain ; 
And  hail  her  kindred  forms  above, 

In  fields  of  uncreated  spring, 
Aloft  where  realms  of  endless  glory  rise, 
And  rapture  paints  in  gold  the  landscape  of  the  skies. 

VI. 

Then  through  the  liquid  fields  we'll  climb, 

Where  Plato  treads  empyreal  air, 
Where  daring  Homer  sits  sublime, 

And  Pindar  rolls  his  fiery  car ; 
Above  the  cloud-encircled  hills, 

Where  high  Parnassus  lifts  his  airy  head, 


116  ODE    TO    SLEEP. 

And  Helicon's  melodious  rills 
Flow  gently  through  the  warbling  glade  ; 
And  all  the  Nine,  in  deathless  choir  combined, 
Dissolve  in  harmony  th'  enraptured  mind, 
And  every  bard,  that  tuned  th'  immortal  lay, 
Basks  in  th'  ethereal  blaze,  and  drinks  celestial  day. 


VII. 


Or  call  to  my  transported  eyes 

Happier  scenes  for  lovers  made, 
Bid  the  twilight  grove  arise, 

Lead  the  rivulet  through  the  glade. 
In  some  flowering  arbor  laid, 
Where  opening  roses  taste  the  honied  dew, 

And  plumy  songsters  carol  through  the  shade, 
Recall  my  long-lost  wishes  to  my  view. 
Bid  Time's  inverted  glass  return 

The  scenes  of  bliss  with  hope  elate, 
And  hail  the  once  expected  morn, 

And  burst  the  iron  bands  of  fate. 
Graced  with  all  her  virgin  charms, 

Attractive  smiles  and  past,  responsive  flame, 
Restore  my  *****  to  my  arms, 

Just  to  her  vows  and  faithful  to  her  fame. 


ODE    TO    SLEEP.  117 

VIII. 

Hymen's  torch  with  hallow'd  fire 

Rising  beams  th'  auspicious  ray. 
Wake  the  dance,  the  festive  lyre 

Warbling  sweet  the  nuptial  lay  ; 
Gay  with  beauties,  once  alluring, 

Bid  the  bright  Enchantress  move, 
Eyes  that  languish,  smiles  of  rapture, 

And  the  rosy  blush  of  love. 
On  her  glowing  breast  reclining, 

Mid  that  paradise  of  charms, 
Every  blooming  grace  combining, 

Yielded  to  my  circling  arms, 
I  clasp  the  Fair,  and  kindling  at  the  view, 
Press  to  my  heart  the  dear  deceit,  and  think  the 
transport  true. 


IX. 


Hence,  false  delusive  dreams, 
Fantastic  hopes  and  mortal  passions  vain  ! 

Ascend,  my  soul  to  nobler  themes 
Of  happier  import  and  sublimer  strain. 

Rising  from  this  sphere  of  night, 
Pierce  yon  blue  vault,  ingomm'd  with  golden  fires  ; 

16* 


ODE    TO    SLEEP. 


Beyond  where  Saturn's  languid  car  retires, 
Or  Sirius  keen  outvies  the  solar  ray, 
To  worlds  from  every  dross  terrene  refined, 
Realms  of  the  pure,  ethereal  mind, 
Warm  with  the  radiance  of  unchanging  day  : 
Where  Cherub-forms  and  Essences  of  light, 

With  holy  song  and  heavenly  rite, 
From  rainbow  clouds  their  strains  immortal  pour  ; 
An  earthly  guest,  in  converse  high, 
Explore  the  wonders  of  the  sky, 
From  orb  to  orb  with  guides  celestial  soar, 
And  take,  through  heaven's  wide  round,  the  Univer- 
sal tour. 


X. 


And  find  that  mansion  of  the  blest, 
Where  rising  ceaseless  from  this  lethal  stage,      [ed, 

Heaven's  favorite  sons,  from  earthly  chains  releas- 
In  happier  Eden  pass  th'  eternal  age. 

The  newborn  soul  beholds  th'  angelic  face 
Of  holy  Sires,  that  throng  the  blissful  plain, 

Or  meets  his  consort's  loved  embrace, 
Or  clasps  the  son,  so  lost,  so  mourn' <1  in  vain. 
There,  charm'd  with  each  endearing  wile, 
Maternal  fondness  greets  her  infant's  smile ; 


ODE    TO    SLEEP.  119 

Long-sever'd  friends,  in  transport  doubly  dear, 
Unite  and  join  th'  interminable  train — 

,    And  hark  !  a  well-known  voice  I  hear, 
I  spy  my  sainted  friend  !  I  meet  my  HOWE*  again  ! 

XI. 

Hail,  sacred  shade  !  for  not  to  dust  consign'd, 
Lost  in  the  grave,  thine  ardent  spirit  lies, 

Nor  fail'd  that  warm  benevolence  of  mind 
To  claim  the  birthright  of  its  native  skies. 

What  radiant  glory  and  celestial  grace, 
Immortal  meed  of  piety  and  praise  ! 
Come  to  my  visions,  friendly  shade, 
'Gainst  all  assaults  my  wayward  weakness  arm, 
Raise  my  low  thoughts,  my  nobler  wishes  aid, 
When  passions  rage,  or  vain  allurements  charm  ; 

The  pomp  of  learning  and  the  boast  of  art, 
The  glow,  that  fires  in  genius'  boundless  range, 
The  pride,  that  wings  the  keen,  satiric  dart, 
And  hails  the  triumph  of  revenge. 


*  Rev.  Joseph  Howe,  pastor  of  a  church  in  Boston,  sometime  a 
fellow-tutor  with  the  author  at  Yale-College.  He  died  in  1775. 
The  conclusion  of  the  Ode  was  varied,  by  inserting  this  tribute  of 
affection. 


ODE   TO    SLEEP. 

Teach  me,  like  thee,  to  feel  and  know 
Our  humble  station  in  this  vale  of  woe, 
Twilight  of  life,  illumed  with  feeble  ray, 
The  infant  dawning  of  eternal  day  ; 

With  heart  expansive,  through  this  scene  improve 
The  social  soul  of  harmony  and  love  ; 
To  heavenly  hopes  alone  aspire  and  prize 

The  virtue,  knowledge,  bliss  and  glory  of  the  skies. 


Who  requested  the  Writer  to  draw  her  Character. 
Sept.  1774. 

A  FABLE. 


J-N  vain,  fair  Maid,  you  ask  in  vain, 
My  pen  should  try  th'  advent'rous  strain, 
And  following  truth's  unalter'd  law, 
Attempt  your  character  to  draw. 
I  own  indeed,  that  generous  mind 
That  weeps  the  woes  of  human  kind, 
That  heart  by  friendship's  charms  inspired, 
That  soul  with  sprightly  fancy  fired, 
The  air  of  life,  the  vivid  eye, 
The  flowing  wit,  the  keen  reply — 
To  paint  these  beauties  as  they  shine, 
Might  ask  a  nobler  pen  than  mine. 

Yet  what  sure  strokes  can  draw  the  Fair, 
Who  vary,  like  the  fleeting  air, 
Like  willows  bending  to  the  force, 
Where'er  the  gales  direct  their  course. 


124  A    FABLE. 

Opposed  to  no  misfortune's  power, 
And  changing  with  the  changing  hour. 
Now  gaily  sporting  on  the  plain, 
They  charm  the  grove  with  pleasing  strain ; 
Anon  disturb'd,  they  know  not  why, 
The  sad  tear  trembles  in  their  eye : 
Led  through  vain  life's  uncertain  dance, 
The  dupes  of  whim,  the  slaves  of  chance. 

From  me,  not  famed  for  much  goodnature, 
Expect  not  compliment,  but  satire  ; 
To  draw  your  picture  quite  unable, 
Instead  of  fact  accept  a  Fable. 

One  morn,  in  jEsop's  noisy  time, 
When  all  things  talk'd,  and  talk'd  in  rhyme, 
A  cloud  exhaled  by  vernal  beams 
Rose  curling  o'er  the  glassy  streams. 
The  dawn  her  orient  blushes  spread, 
And  tinged  its  lucid  skirts  with  red, 
Wide  waved  its  folds  with  glitt'ring  dies, 
And  gaily  streak'd  the  eastern  skies  ; 
Beneath,  illumed  with  rising  day, 
The  sea's  broad  mirror  floating  lay. 
Pleased,  o'er  the  wave  it  hung  in  air, 
Survey'd  its  glittering  glories  there, 
And  fancied,  dress'd  in  gorgeous  show. 
Itself  the  brightest  thing  below  : 


A    FABLE.  125 

For  clouds  could  raise  the  vaunting  strain, 
And  not  the  fair  alone  were  vain. 

Yet  well  it  knew,  howe'er  array'd, 
That  beauty,  e'en  in  clouds,  might  fade, 
That  nothing  sure  its  charms  could  boast 
Above  the  loveliest  earthly  toast ; 
And  so,  like  them,  in  early  dawn 
Resolved  its  picture  should  be  drawn, 
That  when  old  age  with  length'ning  day 
Should  brush  the  vivid  rose  away, 
The  world  should  from  the  portrait  own 
Beyond  all  clouds  how  bright  it  shone. 

Hard  by,  a  painter  raised  his  stage, 
Far  famed,  the  Copley*  of  his  age. 
So  just  a  form  his  colours  drew, 
Each  eye  the  perfect  semblance  knew  ; 
Yet  still  on  every  blooming  face 
He  pour'd  the  pencil's  flowing  grace  : 
Each  critic  praised  the  artist  rare, 
Who  drew  so  like,  and  yet  so  fair. 

To  him,  high  floating  in  the  sky 
Th'  elated  Cloud  advanced  t'  apply. 


*  A  celebrated  American  painter,  who  excelled  in  portraits.    He 
afterwards  visited  London,  where  he  gained  a  very  high  reputation 
by  his  picture  of  the  death  of  Lord  Chatham. 
17* 


126  A    FABLE. 

The  painter  soon  his  colours  brought, 
The  Cloud  then  sat,  the  artist  wrought ; 
Survey 'd  her  form,  with  flatt'ring  strictures, 
Just  as  when  ladies  sit  for  pictures, 
Declared  "  whatever  art  can  do, 
My  utmost  skill  shall  try  for  you  : 
But  sure  those  strong  and  golden  dies 
Dipp'd  in  the  radiance  of  the  skies, 
Those  folds  of  gay  celestial  dress, 
No  mortal  colours  can  express. 
Not  spread  triumphal  o'er  the  plain, 
The  rainbow  boasts  so  fair  a  train, 
Nor  e'en  the  morning  sun  so  bright, 
Who  robes  his  face  in  heav'nly  light. 
To  view  that  form  of  angel  make, 
Again  Ixion  would  mistake,* 
And  justly  deem  so  fair  a  prize, 
The  sovereign  Mistress  of  the  skies," 

He  said,  and  drew  a  mazy  line, 
With  crimson  touch  his  pencils  shine, 


*  The  Grecian  poets  tell  us,  that  Ixion  having  made  an  assigna- 
tion with  Juno,  the  goddess  formed  a  cloud  in  her  own  shape  and 
substituted  it  in  her  stead  :  on  which,  unconscious  of  the  deception, 
he  begat  the  Centaurs. 


A    FABLE.  127 

The  mingling  colours  sweetly  fade, 
And  justly  temper  light  and  shade. 

He  look'd  ;  the  swelling  Cloud  on  high 
With  wider  circuit  spread  the  sky, 
Stretch'd  to  the  sun  an  ampler  train, 
And  pour'd  new  glories  on  the  main. 
As  quick,  effacing  every  ground, 
His  pencil  swept  the  canvas  round, 
And  o'er  its  field,  with  magic  art, 
Call'd  forth  new  forms  in  every  part. 

But  now  the  sun,  with  rising  ray, 
Advanced  with  speed  his  early  way ; 
Each  colour  takes  a  differing  die, 
The  orange  glows,  the  purples  fly. 
The  artist  views  the  alter'd  sight, 
And  varies  with  the  varying  light ; 
In  vain !  a  sudden  gust  arose, 
New  folds  ascend,  new  shades  disclose, 
And  sailing  on  with  swifter  pace, 
The  Cloud  displays  another  face. 
In  vain  the  painter,  vex'd  at  heart, 
Tried  all  the  wonders  of  his  art  5 
In  vain  he  begg'd,  her  form  to  grace, 
One  moment  she  would  keep  her  place : 
For,  "  changing  thus  with  every  gale, 
Now  gay  with  light,  with  gloom  now  pale, 


128  A    FABLE. 

Now  high  in  air  with  gorgeous  train, 
Now  settling  on  the  darken'd  main, 
With  looks  more  various  than  the  moon ; 
A  French  coquette  were  drawn  as  soon." 

He  spoke  ;  again  the  air  was  mild, 
The  Cloud  with  opening  radiance  smiled : 
With  canvas  new  his  art  he  tries, 
Anew  he  joins  the  glitt'ring  dies  ; 
Th'  admiring  Cloud  with  pride  beheld 
Her  image  deck  the  pictured  field, 
And  colours  half-complete  adorn 
The  splendor  of  the  painted  morn. 

When  lo,  the  stormy  winds  arise,     • 
Deep  gloom  invests  the  changing  skies  ; 
The  sounding  tempest  shakes  the  plain, 
And  lifts  in  billowy  surge  the  main. 
The  Cloud's  gay  dies  in  darkness  fade, 
Its  folds  condense  in  thicker  shade, 
And  borne  by  rushing  blasts,  its  form 
With  lowering  vapour  joins  the  storm. 


THE  SPEECH  OF  PROTEUS  TO  ARIST^US, 

CONTAINING  THE  STORY  OF 

ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE ; 

Translated  from  the  4th  book  of  Virgil's  Georgics.     A  collegiate 
exercise.      June  1770. 


A  GOD  pursues  thee  with  immortal  hate, 
By  crimes  provoked,  that  wake  the  wrath  of  fate ; 
In  guiltless  woe  the  hapless  Orpheus  died, 
And  calls  the  powers  t'  avenge  his  injured  bride. 
Along  the  stream,  with  flying  steps  she  strove 
To  shun  the  fury  of  thy  lawless  love, 
Unhappy  Fair !  nor  on  the  fated  way 
Saw  the  dire  snake,  that  ambush'd  for  his  prey. 

GEORGIC.  Lib.  4.  v.  453. 
JM  ON  te  nullius  exercent  numinis  irae  ; 
Magna  luis  commissa  :  tibi  has  miserabilis  Orpheus 
Haudquaquam  ob  meritum  poenas  (ni  fata  resistant) 
Suscitat,  &  rapta  graviter  pro  conjuge  saevit. 
Ilia  quidem,  dum  te  fugeret  per  flumina  praeceps, 
Immanem  ante  pedes  hydram  moritura  puella 
Servantem  ripas  alta  non  vidit  in  herba. 


132          ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE. 

Her  sister  Dryades  wail'd  the  deadly  wound, 
The  lofty  hills  their  melting  cries  resound  ; 
Then  wept  the  rocks  of  Rhodope,  the  towers 
Of  high  Pangaeus,  and  the  Rhesian  shores  ; 
The  mournful  sounds  the  Attic  lands  convey, 
And  Hebrus  rolls  in  sadden'd  waves  away. 

He,  on  his  lyre,  essay'd  with  tuneful  art 
To  sooth  the  ceaseless  anguish  of  his  heart  ; 
Thee,  his  fan*  bride,  to  lone  distress  a  prey, 
Thee  sung  at  rising,  thee  at  falling  day. 
Then  sought  the  realms  of  death  and  Stygian  Jove. 
Through  blackening  horrors  of  th'  infernal  grove, 
Mid  direful  ghosts  and  powers  of  deep  despair, 
Unknown  to  pity  and  unmoved  by  prayer. 

At  chorus  aequalis  Dryadum  clamore  supremos 

Implerunt  montes  :  flerunt  Rhodopeiae  arces, 

Altaque  Pangaea,  &  Rhesi  Mavortia  tellus, 

Atque  Getae,  atque  Hebrus,  atque  Actias  Orithyia. 

Ipse  cava  solans  aegrum  testudine  an  orem, 

Te,  dulcis  conjux,  te  solo  in  litore  secum, 

Te  veniente  die,  te  decedente  canebat. 

Taenarias  etiam  fauces,  alta  ostia  Ditis, 

Et  caligantem  nigra  formidine  lucum 

Ingressus,  Manesque  adiit,  regemque  tremenduui, 

Nesciaque  humanis  precibus  mansuescere  corda. 


ORPHEUS    AND    EURYD1CE. 

From  Hell's  dark  shores,  to  Orpheus'  melting  song, 
On  every  side  the  gloomy  nations  throng ; 
Thin,  airy  shades,  pale  spectres  lost  to  light, 
Like  fancied  forms,  that  glide  athwart  the  night. 
As  flitting  birds,  in  summer's  checquer'd  shade, 
Dance  on  the  boughs  and  flutter  through  the  glade, 
Or  seek  the  woods,  when  night  descends  amain, 
And  pours  in  storms  along  the  wintry  plain  : 
Men,  matrons,  round  the  sweet  musician  press'd, 
The  spouseless  maidens  and  the  youths  unblest, 
Snatch'd  from  their  parents'  eyes,  or  doom'd  to  yield 
In  war's  dire  combats  on  the  crimson  field  ; 
Whom  the  deep  fens,  that  drain  the  moory  ground, 
And  black  Cocytus'  reedy  lake  surround, 


At  cantu  commotae  Erebi  de  sedibus  imis 
Umbrae  ibant  tenues,   simulacraque  luce  carentum  ; 
Quam  multa  in  sylvis  avium  se  millia  condunt, 
Vesper  ubi,  aut  hybernus  agit  de  montibus  imber : 
Matres,  atque  viri,  defunctaque  corpora  vita 
Magnanimum  herouni,  pueri,  innuptaeque  puellas, 
fmpositique  rogis  juvenes  ante  ora  parentum. 
Quos  circum  limus  niger,  &  deformis  arundo 

Cocvti,  tardaque  palus  inamabilis  unda 

is* 


134  ORPHEUS    AND    EURYDICE. 

Where  baleful  Styx  her  mournful  margin  laves, 
And  deadly  Lethe  rolls  th'  oblivious  waves. 

Hell  heard  the  song  ;  and  fix'd  in  deep  amaze, 
On  the  sweet  bard  the  snaky  Furies  gaze ; 
Grim  Cerb'rus  hung  entranced ;  and  ceased  to  reel 
The  giddy  circle  of  Ixion's  wheel. 

These  dangers  'scaped,  he  seeks  the  upper  air, 
Elate  with  joy,  and  followed  by  the  Fair ; 
Such  law  the  fates  imposed  :  but  doom'd  to  prove 
The  sudden  madness  of  ill-omen'd  love  ; 
Could  Fate  relent,  or  melt  at  human  woe, 
A  venial  crime,  were  venial  aught  below ! 
Light  gleam'd  at  hand,  the  shades  of  death  retire  ; 
With  wishes  wild  and  vanquish'd  with  desire, 

Alligat,  &  novies  Styx  interfusa  coercet. 
Quin  ipsae  stupuere  domus,  atque  intima  lethi 
Tartara,  cceruleosque  implexae  crinibus  angueg 
Eumenides ;  tenuitque  inhians  tria  Cerberus  ora : 
Atque  Ixionii  vento  rota  constitit  orbis. 
Jamq;  pedem  referens,  casus  evaserat  omnes, 
RedditaqueEuridice  superas  veniebat  ad  auras,[gem: 
Pone  sequens ;  namque  hanc  dederat  Proserpina  le- 
Cum  subita  incautum  dementia  cepit  amantem, 
Ignoscenda  quidem,  scirent  si  ignoscere  Manes. 


ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE.          135 

His  fears  forgot,  he  turn'd  ;  his  lovely  bride, 
Given  to  his  hope,  with  trembling  glance  espied. 
There  end  thy  joys,  and  vanish'd  into  air 
Thy  fancied  raptures  and  thy  fruitless  care  ; 
Broke  is  the  league,  and  thrice  tremendous  roars 
The  warning  thunder  on  th'  infernal  shores. 

What  rage,  she  cried,  thus  blasts  our  joys  again, 
Pair'd  in  sad  fates  and  doom'd  to  endless  pain ! 
Hark !  the  dread  summons  calls  me  back  to  woes  ; 
My  swimming  eyes  eternal  slumbers  close  ; 
A  last  farewell !  the  stygian  horrors  rise, 
And  roll'd  in  night  my  parting  spirit  flies ; 
Vain  my  weak  arms,  extended  to  restore 
The  bridal  hand,  that  must  be  thine  no  more. 


Restitit,  Eurydicenq;  suam  jam  luce  sub  ipsa, 
Immemor,  heu !  victusq;  anirni,  respexit :  ibi  omnis 
Effusus  labor,  atque  immitis  rupta  tyranni 
Foedera,  terque  fragor  stagnis  auditus  Avernis. 
Ilia ;  Quis  &  me,  inquit,  miseram,  &  te  perdidit,  Or- 
Quis  tantus  furor  ?  en  iterum  crudelia  retro    [pheu  ? 
Fata  vocant,  conditq;  natantia  lumina  somnus. 
Jamque  vale  :  feror  ingenti  circumdata  nocte, 
Invalidasque  tibi  tendens,  hen  !  non  tua,  palmas. 


136  ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE. 

She  said,  and  vanish'd  instant  from  his  eye, 
Like  melting  smoke,  that  mingles  with  the  sky. 
No  kind  embrace  his  deepening  grief  t'  allay, 

No  farewell  word,  though  much  he  wish'd  to  say? 

/ 

Nor  hope  remained.     Stern  Charon  now  no  more 
Consents  to  waft  him  to  the  adverse  shore. 
Again  divorced  from  all  his  soul  must  love, 
No  tears  could  melt,  nor  songs  the  fates  could  move. 
Her,  breathless,  pale,  to  mansions  of  the  grave, 
The  bark  bore  floating  on  the  stygian  wave. 
In  gelid  caves  with  horrid  glooms  array'd, 
Where  cloud-topt  hills  project  an  awful  shade, 
Along  the  margin  of  the  desert  shore, 
Where  lonely  Strymon's  rushing  waters  roar, 


Dixit,  &  ex  oculis  subito,  ceu  fumus  in  auras 
Commixtus  tenues,  fugit  diversa  ;  neque  ilium 
Prensantem  nequicquam  umbras,  &  multa  volentem 
Dicere,  praeterea  vidit •;  nee  portitor  Orel 
Amplius  objectam  passus  transire  paludem. 
Quid  faceret  ?  quo  se  rapta  bis  conjuge  ferret  ? 
Quo  fletu  Manes,  qua  numina  voce  moveret  ? 
Ilia  quidem  Stygia  nabat  jam  frigida  cymba. 

Septem  ilium  totos  perhibent  ex  ordine  menses 
Rupe  sub  aeria,  deserti  ad  Strymonis  undam 


ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE.          137 

Seven  hapless  months  he  wept  his  fatal  love, 
His  ravish'd  bride,  and  blamed  relentless  Jove. 
Stern  tigers  soften'd  at  the  tuneful  sound, 
The  thickets  move,  the  forests  dance  around : 
So  in  some  poplar's  shade,  with  soothing  song 
Sad  Philomela  mourns  her  captive  young, 
When  some  rude  swain  hath  found  th'  unfeather'd 
Her  nest  despoil'd  and  borne  the  prize  away  ;  [prey, 
Through  the  long  night  she  breathes  her  tuneful  strain, 
The  slow,  deep  moan  resounds,  and  echoes  o'er  the 

plain. 

Pleasure  no  more  his  soul  estranged  could  move, 
The  charms  of  beauty,  or  the  joys  of  love. 
Alone  he  stray'd  where  freezing  Tanais  flows 
Through  drear  wastes,  wedded  to  perennial  snows. 


Flevisse,  &  gelidis  hacc  evolvisse  sub  antris, 
Mulcentem  tigres,  &  agentem  carmine  quercus. 
Qualis  populea  moerens  Philomela  sub  umbra 
Amissos  queritur  foetus,  quos  durus  arator 
Observans  nido  implumes,  detraxit ;  at  ilia 
Flet  noctem,  ramoq;  seclens  miserabile  carmen 
Integrat,  &  moestis  late  loca  questibus  implet. 
Nulla  Venus,  nulliq;  animum  flexere  hymenffii. 
Solus  Hyperboreas  glacies,  Tanaimq;  nivalem, 


138  ORPHEUS  AND  EURYD1CE. 

Mourn'd  his  lost  bride,  th'  infernal  power's  deceit, 
And  cursed  the  vain,  illusive  gifts  of  fate. 

When  Bacchus'  orgies  stain'd  the  midnight  skies, 
Their  proffers  scorn'd,  the  Thracian  matrons  rise. 
Their  hopeless  rage  the  bleeding  victim  tore, 
His  sever'd  limbs  are  scatter'd  on  the  shore, 
Rent  from  his  breathless  corse,  swift  Hebrus  sweeps 
His  gory  visage  to  the  opening  deeps. 
Yet  when  cold  death  sate  trembling  on  his  tongue, 
With  fainting  soul,  Eurydice,  he  sung ; 
Ah  dearest,  lost  Eurydice  !  he  cries  ; 
Eurydice,  the  plaintive  shore  replies. 


Arvaque  Riphaeis  nunquam  viduata  pruinis, 
Lustrabat ;  raptam  Eurydicen,  atq;  irrita  Ditis 
Dona  querens  :  spreto  Ciconum  quo  munere  matres. 
Inter  sacra  Deum,  nocturniq;  orgia  Bacchi, 
Discerptum  latos  juvenem  sparsere  per  agros. 
Turn  quoq;  marmorea  caput  a  cervice  revulsum, 
Gurgite  cum  medio  portans  Oeagrius  Hebrus 
Volveret,  Eurydicen  vox  ipsa  &  frigida  lingua, 
Ah  miseram  Eurydicen,  anima  fugiente,  vocabat ; 
Eurydicen  toto  referebant  flumine  ripse. 


THE  PROPHECY  OF  BALAAM . 

NUMBERS,  Chapters  23d  and  24th. 
December  1773. 


I. 

UN  lofty  Peer's  brow, 
That  rears  its  forehead  to  the  sky, 
And  sees  the  airy  vapors  fly, 
And  clouds  in  bright  expansion  sail  below, 
Sublime  the  Prophet  stood. 
Beneath  its  pine-clad  side, 
The  distant  world  her  varied  landscape  yields  ; 
Winding  vales  and  length 'ning  fields. 
Streams  in  sunny  maze  that  flow'd, 
Stretch'd  immense  in  prospect  wide. 
Forests  green  in  summer's  pride. 
Waving  glory  gilds  the  main, 
The  dazzling  sun  ascending  high, 

While  earth's  blue  verge,  at  distance  dimly  seen, 
Spreads  from  the  aching  sight,  and  fades  into  the  skr. 

19* 


1.42  THE    PROPHECY 

II. 

Beneath  his  feet,  along  the  level  plain, 
The  host  of  Israel  stretch'd  in  deep  array ; 

Their  tents  rose  frequent  on  the  enamell'd  green, 
Bright  to  the  wind  the  color'd  streamers  play. 

Red  from  the  slaughter  of  their  foes, 
In  awful  steel  th'  embattled  heroes  stood ; 
High  o'er  the  shaded  ark  in  terror  rose 
The  cloud,  the  dark  pavilion  of  their  God. 
Before  the  Seer's  unwilling  eyes, 

The  years  unborn  ascend  to  sight ; 
He  saw  their  opening  morn  arise, 
Bright  in  the  sunshine  of  the  fav'ring  skies; 

While  from  th'  insufferable  light, 
Fled  the  dire  daemons  of  opposing  night. 

No  more,  elate  with  stygian  aid, 
He  waves  the  wand's  enchanted  power, 

And  baleful  through  the  hallow'd  glade, 
His  magic*  footsteps  rove  no  more. 

Fill'd  with  prophetic  fire,  he  lifts  his  hand 
O'er  the  deep  host  in  dim  array ; 
And  awed  by  heaven's  supreme  command, 
Pours  forth  the  rapture  of  the  living  lay. 

*  Numbers,  xxiv,  1 .    And  when  Balaam  saw  that  it  pleased  God 
to  bless  Israel,  he  went  not,  as  at  other  times,  to  seek  enchantments. 


OF   BALAAM.  143 

III. 

Fair,  oh  Israel,  are  thy  tents,1* 
Blest  the  banners  of  thy  fame  ; 
Blest  the  dwellings  of  his  saints, 
Where  their  God  displays  his  name. 
Fair  as  these  vales,f  that  stretch  their  lawns  so  wide, 

As  gardens  smile  in  flow'ry  meadows  fair, 
As  rising  cedars,  on  the  streamlet's  side, 
Unfold  their  arms  and  court  the  fragrant  air. 
Vain  is  magic's  deadly  force, 
Vain  the  dire  enchanter's  spell, 
Waving  wand  or  charmed  curse, 
Vain  the  pride,  the  rage  of  hell. 
From  Peor's  high,  illumined  brow, 

I  sect  th'  Eternal  Power  reveal'd, 
And  all  the  lengthen'd  plain  below 
O'ershrouded  by  th'  Almighty  Shield. 


*  Verse  5.  How  beautiful  are  thy  tents,  O  Jacob !  and  thy  taber- 
nacles, O  Israel ! 

f  As  the  valleys  are  they  spread  forth,  as  gardens  by  the  river's 
side,  as  cedars  beside  the  waters.  V.  6. 

Chapter  xxiii,  verse  23.  Surely  there  is  no  enchantment  against 
Jacob,  neither  any  divination  against  Israel. 

J  From  the  top  of  the  rocks  I  see  him,  and  from  the  hills  I  be- 
hold him.  Chapter  xxiii,  9. 


144.  THE  PROPHECY 

God,  their  guardian  God,  descends, 
And  Israel's  fav'rite  host  Omnipotence  defends. 


IV. 


And  see,  bright  Judah's  Star*  ascending 
Fires  the  east  with  crimson  day, 
Awful  o'er  his  foes  impending, 
Pours  wide  the  lightning  of  his  ray, 
And  flames  destruction  on  th'  opposing  world. 
Death's  broad  banners  dark,  unfurl'd, 
Wave  o'er  his  blood-encircled  way. 

Sceptred  king  of  Moab,  hear, 
Deeds  that  future  times  await, 
Deadly  triumph,  war  severe, 
Israel's  pride  and  Moab's  fate. 
What  echoing  terrors  burst  upon  mine  ear ! 
What  awful  forms  in  flaming  horror  rise  ! 
Empurpled  Rage,  pale  Ruin,  heart-struck  Fear, 
In  scenes  of  blood  ascend,  and  skim  before  my  eyes. 


*  There  shall  come  a  Star  out  of  Jacob,  and  a  sceptre  shall  arise 
out  of  Israel,  and  shall  smite  the  corners  of  Moab,  and  destroy  all 
the  children  of  Sheth.  Chap,  xxiv,  17,  &c. 


OF    BALAAM.  145 

V. 


Dimly  on  the  skirt  of  ni 
O'er  thy  sons  the  cloud  impends  ; 

Echoing  storm  with  wild  affright, 
Loud  the  astonish'd  ether  rends. 
Long  hosts,  emblazed  with  sunbright  shields,  appear. 

And  Death,  in  fierce  career, 

Glides  on  their  light'ning  swords  :  along  thy  shores, 
Arm'd  with  the  bolts  of  fate, 
What  hostile  navies  wait  ! 
Above,  around,  the  shout  of  ruin  roars. 

For  nought  avails,  that  clad  in  spiry  pride, 
Thy  rising  cities  glitter'd  on  the  day  ; 

The  vengeful  arms  wave  devastation  wide, 
And  give  thy  pompous  domes  to  smouldering  flames 
a  prey. 

VI. 

Edom*  bows  her  lofty  head, 
Seir  submits  her  vanquish'd  lands, 

Amalek,  of  hosts  the  dread, 
Sinks  beneath  their  wasting  hands. 


*  Edom  shall  be  a  possession,  Seir  also  shall  be  a  possession  for 
his  enemies,  and  Israel  shall  do  valiantly.  See  chapter  xxiv.  from 
verse  18  to  the  end. 


146  THE    PROPHECY    OF    BALAAM. 

See,  whelm'd  in  smoky  heaps,  the  ruin'd  walls 
Rise  o'er  thy  children's  hapless  grave  ! 

Low  thy  blasted  glory  falls  ; 
Vain  the  pride  that  could  not  save ! 

Israel's  swords  arrest  the  prey. 
Back  to  swift  fate  thy  trembling  standards  turn  ; 

Black  desolation  rolls  along  their  way, 
War  sweeps  in  front,  and  flames  behind  them  burn ; 

And  Death  and  dire  Dismay 

Unfold  their  universal  grave,  and  ope  the  mighty 
urn. 


. 


THE  OWL  AND  THE  SPARROW. 

A  FABLE.* 

1772. 

-I.N  elder  days,  in  Saturn's  prime, 

Ere  baldness  seized  the  head  of  Time, 

While  truant  Jove,  in  infant  pride, 

Play'd  barefoot  on  Olympus'  side, 

Each  thing  on  earth  had  power  to  chatter, 

And  spoke  the  mother  tongue  of  nature. 

Each  stock  or  stone  could  prate  and  gabble, 

Worse  than  ten  labourers  of  Babel. 

Along  the  street,  perhaps  you'd  see 

A  Post  disputing  with  a  Tree, 

And  mid  their  arguments  of  weight, 

A  Goose  sit  umpire  of  debate. 

Each  Dog  you  met,  though  speechless  now, 

Would  make  his  compliments  and  bow, 


*  In  the  course  of  a  poetical  correspondence  with  a  friend,  hav- 
ing received  a  very  humorous  letter  in  ridicule  of  Love,  &c.  I  sent 
him  this  fable  in  return. 
20* 


150  A    FABLK. 

And  every  Swine  with  congees  come, 
To  know  how  did  all  friends  at  home. 
Each  Block  sublime  could  make  a  speech, 
In  style  and  eloquence  as  rich, 
And  could  pronounce  it  and  could  pen  it, 
As  well  as  Chatham  in  the  senate. 

Nor  prose  alone. — In  these  young  times. 
Each  field  was  fruitful  too  in  rhymes  ; 
Each  feather' d  minstrel  felt  the  passion, 
And  every  wind  breathed  inspiration. 
Each  Bullfrog  croak'd  in  loud  bombastic, 
Each  Monkey  chatter'd  Hudibrastic  ; 
Each  Cur,  endued  with  yelping  nature, 
Could  outbark  Churchill's*  self  in  satire  ; 
Each  Crow  in  prophecy  delighted, 
Each  Owl,  you  saw,  was  second-sighted, 
Each  Goose  a  skilful  politician, 
Each  Ass  a  gifted  met 'physician, 
Could  preach  in  wrath  'gainst  laughing  rogues, 
Write  Halfway-covenant  Dialogues^ 


*  Churchill,  the  English  satirist. 

f  Alluding  to  the  titles  of  several  violent  controversial  produc- 
tions of  that  day,  concerning  the  terms  of  admission  to  church-fel- 
lowship. 


A    FABLE.  151 

And  wisely  judge  of  all  disputes 

In  commonwealths  of  men  or  brutes. 

'Twas  then,  in  spring  a  youthful  Sparrow 
Felt  the  keen  force  of  Cupid's  arrow  : 
For  Birds,  as  ^Esop's  tales  avow, 
Made  love  then,  just  as  men  do  now, 
And  talk'd  of  deaths  and  flames  and  darts, 
And  breaking  necks  and  losing  hearts  ; 
And  chose  from  all  th'  aerial  kind, 
Not  then  to  tribes,  like  Jews,  confined. 
The  story  tells,  a  lovely  Thrush 
Had  smit  him  from  a  neigh'bring  bush, 
Where  oft  the  young  coquette  would  play, 
And  carol  sweet  her  siren  lay : 
She  thrill'd  each  feather'd  heart  with  love. 
And  reign'd  the  Toast  of  all  the  grove. 

He  felt  the  pain,  but  did  not  dare 
Disclose  his  passion  to  the  fair ; 
For  much  he  fear'd  her  conscious  pride 
Of  race,  to  noble  blood  allied. 
Her  grandsire's  nest  conspicuous  stood, 
Mid  loftiest  branches  of  the  wood, 
In  airy  height,  that  scorn'd  to  know 
Each  flitting  wing  that  waved  below. 
So  doubting,  on  a  point  so  nice 
He  deem'd  it  best  to  take  advice. 


152  A    FABLE. 

Hard  by  there  dwelt  an  aged  Owl, 
Of  all  his  friends  the  gravest  fowl ; 
Who  from  the  cares  of  business  free, 
Lived,  hermit,  in  a  hollow  tree  ; 
To  solid  learning  bent  his  mind, 
In  trope  and  syllogism  he  shined, 
'Gainst  reigning  follies  spent  his  railing ; 
Too  much  a  Stoic — 'twas  his  failing. 

Hither  for  aid  our  Sparrow  came, 
And  told  his  errand  and  his  name, 
With  panting  breath  explain'd  his  case, 
Much  trembling  at  the  sage's  face  ; 
And  begg'd  his  Owlship  would  declare 
If  love  were  worth  a  wise  one's  care. 

The  grave  Owl  heard  the  weighty  cause, 
And  humm'd  and  hah'd  at  every  pause  ; 
Then  fix'd  his  looks  in  sapient  plan, 
Stretch'd  forth  one  foot,  and  thus  began. 

"  My  son,  my  son,  of  love  beware, 
And  shun  the  cheat  of  beauty's  snare  ; 
That  snare  more  dreadful  to  be  in, 
Than  huntsman's  net,  or  horse-hair  gin. 
"  By  others'  harms  learn  to  be  wise," 
As  ancient  proverbs  well  advise. 
Each  villany,  that  nature  breeds, 
From  females  and  from  love  proceeds. 


A    FABLE.  153 

'Tis  love  disturbs  with  fell  debate 
Of  man  and  beast  the  peaceful  state  : 
Men  fill  the  world  with  war's  alarms, 
When  female  trumpets  sound  to  arms  ; 
The  commonwealth  of  dogs  delight 
For  beauties,  as  for  bones,  to  fight. 
Love  hath  his  tens  of  thousands  slain, 
And  heap'd  with  copious  death  the  plain  : 
Samson,  with  ass's  jaw  to  aid, 
Ne'er  peopled  thus  th'  infernal  shade. 

"  Nor  this  the  worst ;  for  he  that's  dead, 
With  love  no  more  will  vex  his  head. 
'Tis  in  the  rolls  of  fate  above, 
That  death's  a  certain  cure  for  love ; 
A  noose  can  end  the  cruel  smart ; 
The  lover's  leap  is  from  a  cart. 
But  oft  a  living  death  they  bear, 
Scorn'd  by  the  proud,  capricious  fair. 
The  fair  to  sense  pay  no  regard, 
And  beauty  is  the  fop's  reward  ; 
They  slight  the  generous  hearts'  esteem, 
And  sigh  for  those,  who  fly  from  them. 

Just  when  your  wishes  would  prevail, 
Some  rival  bird  with  gayer  tail, 
Who  sings  his  strain  with  sprightlier  note, 
And  chatters  praise  with  livelier  throat, 


164  A    FABLE. 

Shall  charm  your  fluttering  fair  one  down, 
And  leave  your  choice,  to  hang  or  drown. 

Ev'n  I,  my  son,  have  felt  the  smart ; 
A  Pheasant  won  my  youthful  heart. 
For  her  I  tuned  the  doleful  lay,1* 
For  her  I  watch'd  the  night  away  ; 
In  vain  I  told  my  piteous  case, 
And  smooth'd  my  dignity  of  face ; 
In  vain  I  cull'd  the  studied  phrase, 
And  sought  hard  words  in  beauty's  praise. 
Her,  not  my  charms  nor  sense  could  move, 
For  folly  is  the  food  of  love. 
Each  female  scorns  our  serious  make, 
•if  Each  woman  is  at  heart  a  rake."f 
Thus  Owls  in  every  age  have  said, 
Since  our  first  parent-owl  was  made  ; 
Thus  Pope  and  Swift,  to  prove  their  sense, 
Shall  sing,  some  twenty  ages  hence  ; 
Then  shall  a  man  of  little  fame, 
One  *****  *********  sing  the  same. 


*  My  correspondent,  about  that  time,  had  also  been  himself  a  lit- 
tle dipped  in  Amatory  Verse,  as  Little,  [T.  Moore]  calls  it. 
f  Men,  some  to  business,  some  to  pleasure  take, 
But  every  woman  is  at  heart  a  rake. 

Pope's  Essay  on  the  characters  of  Women- 


OF  THE  FUTURE  GLORY  OF  AMERICA. 


PROSPECT 

OF  THE  FUTURE  GLORY  OF  AMERICA  : 

Being  the  conclusion  of  an  Oration,  delivered  at  the  public  com- 
mencement at  Yale-College,  September  12,  1770. 


AND  see  th'  expected  hour  is  on  the  wing, 

With  every  joy  the  flight  of  years  can  bring  ; 
The  splendid  scenes  the  Muse  shall  dare  display, 
And  unborn  ages  view  the  ripen'd  day. 

Beneath  a  sacred  grove's  inspiring  shade, 
When  Night  the  world  in  pleasing  glooms  array'd, 
While  the  fair  moon,  that  leads  the  heav'nly  train, 
With  varying  brightness  dyed  the  dusky  plain, 
Entranced  I  sate  ;  to  solemn  thought  resign'd, 
Long  visions  rising  in  the  raptured  mind, 
Celestial  music  charm'd  the  listening  dale, 
While  these  blest  sounds  my  ravish'd  ear  assail. 

"  To  views  far  distant  and  to  scenes  more  bright, 

O        J 

Along  the  vale  of  Time  extend  thy  sight, 

Where  hours  and  days  and  years  from  yon  dim  pole, 

Wave  following  wave  in  long  succession  roll, 

21* 


THE    FUTURE    GLORY 

There  see,  in  pomp  for  ages  without  end, 
The  glories  of  the  Western  World  ascend. 

"  See,  this  blest  land  in  orient  morn  appears, 
Waked  from  the  slumber  of  six  thousand  years, 
While  clouds  of  darkness  veil'd  each  cheering  ray  ; 
To  savage  beasts  and  savage  men,  a  prey. 
Fair  Freedom  now  her  ensigns  bright  displays, 
And  peace  and  plenty  bless  the  golden  days. 
In  radiant  state  th'  imperial  realm  shall  rise, 
Her  splendor  circling  to  the  boundless  skies  ; 
Of  every  Fair  she  boasts  the  assembled  charms, 
The  Queen  of  empires  and  the  nurse  of  arms. 

"  See  her  bold  heroes  mark  their  glorious  way, 
Arm'd  for  the  fight  and  blazing  on  the  day !    [plain, 
Blood  stains  their  steps,  and  o'er  th'   ensanguined 
Mid  warring  thousands  and  mid  thousands  slain, 
Their  eager  swords  unsated  carnage  blend, 
And  ghastly  deaths  their  raging  course  attend. 
Her  dreaded  power  the  subject  world  shall  see, 
And  laurel'd  conquest  wait  her  high  decree. 

"  And  see  her  navies,  rushing  to  the  main, 
Catch  the  swift  gales  and  sweep  the  wat'ry  plain : 
Or  led  by  commerce,  at  the  merchant's  door 
Unlade  the  treasures  of  the  Asian  shore ; 
Or  arm'd  with  thunder,  on  the  guilty  foe 
Rush  big  with  death  and  aim  th'  unerring  blow  : 


OF    AMERICA. 

Bid  every  realm,  that  hears  the  trump  of  fame, 
Quake  at  the  distant  terror  of  her  name. 

"  For  pleasing  Arts  behold  her  matchless  charms, 
The  first  in  letters,  as  the  first  in  arms. 
See  bolder  genius  quit  the  narrow  shore, 
And  realms  of  science,  yet  untraced,  explore, 
Hiding  in  brightness  of  superior  day, 
The  fainting  gleam  of  Europe's  setting  ray. 

"  Sublime  the  Muse  shall  lift  her  eagle  wing  ; 
Of  heavenly  themes  the  sacred  bards  shall  sing, 
Tell  how  the  blest  Redeemer,  man  to  save, 
Thro'  the  deep  mansions  of  the  gloomy  grave, 
Sought  the  low  shades  of  night,  then  rising  high 
Vanquish'd  the  powers  of  hell,  and  soar'd  above  the 
Or  paint  the  scenes  of  that  funereal  day,  [sky : 

When  earth's  last  fires  shall  mark  their  dreadful  way, 
In  solemn  pomp  th'  eternal  Judge  descend, 
Doom  the  wide  world  and  give  to  nature,  end : 
Or  ope  heaven's  glories  to  th'  astonish'd  eye, 
And  bid  their  lays  with  lofty  Milton  vie  ; 
Or  wake  from  nature's  themes  the  moral  song, 
And  shine  with  Pope,  with  Thompson  and  with  Young. 

"  This  land  her  Swift  and  Addison  shall  view, 
The  former  honours  equal  I'd  by  the  new  ; 
Here  shall  some  Shakspeare  charm  the  rising  age. 
And  hold  in  magic  chains  the  listening  stage  : 


160  THE    FUTURE    GLORY 

second  Watts  shall  string  the  heavenly  lyre, 
And  other  muses  other  bards  inspire. 

•'  Her  Daughters  too  the  happy  land  shall  grace 
With  powers  of  genius,  as  with  charms  of  face  ; 
Blest  with  the  softness  of  the  female  mind, 
With  fancy  blooming  and  with  taste  refined, 
Some  Rowe  shall  rise,  and  wrest  with  daring  pen 
The  pride  of  science  from  assuming  men  ; 
While  each  bright  line  a  polish'd  beauty  wears, 
For  every  muse  and  every  grace  are  theirs. 

"  Nor  shall  these  bounds  her  rising  fame  confine, 
With  equal  praise  the  sister  arts  shall  shine. 

"  Behold  some  new  Apelles,  skill'd  to  trace 
The  varied  features  of  the  virgin's  face, 
Bid  the  gay  landscape  rise  in  rural  charms, 
Or  wake  from  dust  the  slu nibbing  chief  in  arms, 
Bid  art  with  nature  hold  a  pleasing  strife, 
And  warm  the  pictured  canvas  into  life. 

"  See    heaven-born  Music  strike    the   trembling 
Devotion  rising  on  the  raptured  wing.  [string, 

"  See  the  proud  dome  with  lofty  walls  ascend, 
Wide  gates  unfold,  stupendous  arches  bend, 
The  spiry  turrets,  piercing  to  the  skies, 
And  all  the  grandeur  of  the  palace  rise. 

"  The  patriot's  voice  shall  Eloquence  inspire 
With  Roman  splendor  and  Athenian  fire, 


OF    AMERICA.  161 

At  freedom's  call,  teach  manly  breasts  to  glow, 
And  prompt  the  tender  tear  o'er  guiltless  woe." 

O,  born  to  glory  when  these  times  prevail, 
Great  nurse  of  learning,  fair  Yalensia,*  hail ! 
Within  thy  walls,  beneath  thy  pleasing  shade, 
We  woo'd  each  Art,  and  won  the  Muse  to  aid. 
These  scenes  of  bliss  now  closing  on  our  view, 
Borne  from  thy  seats,  we  breathe  a  last  adieu. 
Long  may'st  thou  reign,  of  every  joy  possessed, 
Blest  in  thy  teachers,  in  thy  pupils  blest ; 
To  distant  years  thy  fame  immortal  grow, 
Thy  spreading  light  to  rising  ages  flow ; 
Till  Nature  hear  the  great  Archangel's  call, 
Till  the  last  flames  involve  the  sinking  ball ; 
Then  may  thy  sons  ascend  th'  ethereal  plains, 
And  join  seraphic  songs,  where  bliss  eternal  reigns. 


*  The  author  at  this  time  received  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts 
in  this  University,  where  he  had  resided  for  the  seven  proceeding 
years. 


ON  THE  VANITY  OF  YOUTHFUL  EXPECTATIONS. 
AN  ELEGY. 

December  1771. 

HENCE,  gaudy  Flattery,  with  thy  siren  song, 
Thy  fading  laurels  and  thy  trump  of  praise, 

Thy  magic  glass,  that  cheats  the  wond'ring  throng, 
And  bids  vain  men  grow  vainer,  as  they  gaze  ! 

For  what  the  gain,  though  nature  have  supplied 
Her  keenest  nerves,  to  taste  the  stings  of  pain  ? 

That  fame  how  poor,  that  swells  our  baseless  pride, 
And  shews  the  heights,  our  steps  must  ne'er  attain  ? 

How  vain  those  thoughts,  that  through  creation  rove, 
Returning  fraught  with  images  of  woe  ; 

Those  gifts  how  vain,  that  please  not  those  we  love, 
With  grief  oppress'd,  how  small  the  gain  —  to  know  !* 

And  oh,  that  fate,  in  life's  sequester'd  shade 
Had  fix'd  the  limits  of  my  silent  way, 

Far  from  the  scenes  in  gilded  pomp  array'd, 
Where  hope  and  fame,  but  flatter,  to  betray. 


Scire  tuum  nihil  est. 

22* 


166  AN   ELEGY. 

The  lark  had  call'd  me  at  the  birth  of  dawn, 
My  cheerful  toils  and  rural  sports  to  share  ; 

Nor  when  mild  evening  glimmer'd  on  the  lawn, 
Had  sleep  been  frighted  by  the  voice  of  care. 

So  the  soft  flocks  in  harmless  pastime  stray, 
Or  sport  in  rapture  on  the  flovv'ry  mead, 

Enjoy  the  beauties  of  the  vernal  day, 

And  no  sad  prescience  tells  them  they  must  bleed. 

Then  wild  ambition  ne'er  had  swell'd  my  heart, 
Nor  had  my  steps  pursued  the  road  to  fame  ; 

Then  ne'er  had  Slander  raised  th'  envenomed  dart, 
Nor  hung  in  vengeance  o'er  my  hated  name ; 

Nor  dreams  of  bliss,  that  never  must  be  mine, 
Urged  the  fond  tear  or  raised  the  bursting  sigh  ; 

Nor  tend'rest  pangs  had  bid  my  soul  repine, 

Nor  torture  warn'd  me,  that  my  hopes  must  die. 

Farewell,  ye  visions  of  the  youthful  breast, 
The  boast  of  genius  and  the  pride  of  praise, 

Gay  pleasure's  charms  by  fairy  fancy  dress'd, 
The  patriot's  honours  and  the  poet's  bays. 

Vain  Hope  adieu  !  thou  dear  deluding  cheat, 

Whose  magic  charm  can  burst  the  bands  of  pain  ; 

By  thee  decoy'd,  we  clasp  the  gay  deceit, 
And  hail  the  dawn  of  future  bliss,  in  vain. 


AN    ELEGY.  167 

Come,  Sadness,  come,  mild  sister  of  Despair, 
The  helpless  suff'rer's  last  support  and  friend, 

Lead  to  those  scenes,  that  sooth  the  wretch's  care, 
Where  life's  false  joys,  and  life  itself  must  end. 

Well  pleased  I  wander  o'er  the  hallow'd  ground. 
Where  Death  in  horror  holds  his  dread  domain, 

When  night  sits  gloomy  in  th'  ethereal  round, 
And  swimming  vapors  cloud  the  dreary  plain. 

Ye  Ghosts,  the  tenants  of  the  evening  skies, 
That  glide  obscure  along  the  dusky  vale, 

Enrobed  in  mists  I  see  your  forms  arise  ; 
I  hear  your  voices  sounding  in  the  gale ! 

Of  life  ye  speak,  and  life's  fantastic  toys, 

How  vain  the  wish,  that  grasps  at  things  below, 

How  disappointment  lours  on  all  our  joys, 
And  hope  bequeaths  the  legacy  of  woe. 

Ye  too,  perhaps,  while  youth  supplied  its  beam, 
On  fancy's  pinions  soaring  to  the  sky, 

Fed  your  deluded  thoughts,  with  many  a  dream 
Of  love  and  fame  and  future  scenes  of  joy. 

Like  yours,  how  soon  our  empty  years  shall  fade. 

Past,  like  the  vapors,  that  in  clouds  decay, 
Past,  like  the  forms  that  fleet  along  the  shade — 

Ourselves  as  worthless  and  as  vain  as  tlier ! 


168  AN  ELEGY. 

Here  the  kind  haven  greets  our  weary  sail, 
When  the  rude  voyage  of  troubled  life  is  o'er, 

Safe  from  the  stormy  blast,  the  faithless  gale, 
The  gulphs  that  threaten  and  the  waves  that  roar. 

The  heart  no  more  the  pains  of  love  shall  share, 
Nor  tort'ring  grief  the  wayward  mind  enslave  ; 

Through  toilworn  years  fatigued  with  restless  care, 
Peace  sought  in  vain,  awaits  us  in  the  grave  : 

Nor  peace  alone.     Death  breaks  the  sullen  gloom, 
That  dims  the  portals  of  celestial  day, 

Bids  the  free  soul  her  nobler  powers  assume, 
And  wing  from  woes  her  heaven  directed  way. 


TO  LADIES  OF  A  CERTAIN  AGE. 


ADVICE 

TO  LADIES  OF  A  CERTAIN  AGK. 
July  1771. 


i  E  ancient  Maids,*  who  ne'er  must  prove 

The  early  joys  of  youth  and  love, 

Whose  names  grim  Fate  ,(to  whom  'twas  given, 

When  marriages  were  made  in  heaven) 

Survey'd  with  unrelenting  scowl, 

And  struck  them  from  the  muster-roll ; 

Or  set  you  by,  in  dismal  sort, 

For  wintry  bachelors  to  court ; 

Or  doom'd  to  lead  your  faded  lives, 

Heirs  to  the  joys  of  former  wives ; 

Attend  !  nor  fear  in  state  forlorn, 

To  shun  the  pointing  hand  of  scorn, 

Attend,  if  lonely  age  you  dread, 

And  wish  to  please,  or  wish  to  wed. 


*  The  author  had  interposed  in  vindication  of  some  young  ladies. 
who  were  injured,  as  he  believed,  by  malicious  slanders.  He  became 
in  consequence  implicated  in  the  quarrel.  The  poem  was  written, 
(to  use  a  mercantile  phrase)  to  close  the  concern. 


172  ADVICE    TO    LADIES 

When  beauties  lose  their  gay  appearance, 
And  lovers  fall  from  perseverance, 
When  eyes  grow  dim  and  charms  decay, 
And  all  your  roses  fade  away, 
First  know  yourselves  ;  lay  by  those  airs, 
Which  well  might  suit  your  former  years, 
Nor  ape  in  vain  the  childish  mien, 
And  airy  follies  of  sixteen. 

We  pardon  faults  in  youth's  gay  flow, 
While  beauty  prompts  the  cheek  to  glow, 
While  every  glance  has  power  to  warm, 
And  every  turn  displays  a  charm, 
Nor  view  a  spot  in  that  fair  face, 
Which  smiles  inimitable  grace. 

But  who,  unmoved  with  scorn,  can  see 
The  grey  coquette's  affected  glee, 
Her  ambuscading  tricks  of  art 
To  catch  the  beau's  unthinking  heart, 
To  check  th'  assuming  fopling's  vows, 
The  bridling  frown  of  wrinkled  brows  ; 
Those  haughty  airs  of  face  and  mind, 
Departed  beauty  leaves  behind. 

Nor  let  your  sullen  temper  show 
Spleen  louring  on  the  envious  brow, 
The  jealous  glance  of  rival  rage, 
The  sourness  and  the  rust  of  age. 


OF   A    CERTAIN    AGE.  173 

With  graceful  ease,  avoid  to  wear 
The  gloom  of  disappointed  care  : 
And  oh,  avoid  the  sland'rous  tongue, 
By  malice  tuned,  with  venom  hung, 
That  blast  of  virtue  and  of  fame, 
That  herald  to  the  court  of  shame  ; 
Less  dire  the  croaking  raven's  throat, 
Though  death's  dire  omens  swell  the  note. 

Contented  tread  the  vale  of  years, 
Devoid  of  malice,  guilt  and  fears  ; 
Let  soft  good  humour,  mildly  gay, 
Gild  the  calm  evening  of  your  day, 
And  virtue,  cheerful  and  serene, 
In  every  word  and  act  be  seen. 
Virtue  alone  with  lasting  grace, 
Embalms  the  beauties  of  the  face, 
Instructs  the  speaking  eye  to  glow, 
Illumes  the  cheek  and  smooths  the  brow, 
Bids  every  look  the  heart  engage, 
Nor  fears  the  wane  of  wasting  age. 

Nor  think  these  charms  of  face  and  air, 
The  eye  so  bright,  the  form  so  fair, 
This  light  that  on  the  surface  plays, 
Each  coxcomb  fluttering  round  its  blaze, 
Whose  spell  enchants  the  wits  of  beaux, 
The  only  charms,  that  heaven  bestows. 

23* 


174  ADVICE    TO    LADIES 

Within  the  mind  a  glory  lies, 
O'erlook'd  and  dim  to  vulgar  eyes  ; 
Immortal  charms,  the  source  of  love, 
Which  time  and  lengthen'd  years  improve. 
Wrhich  beam,  with  still  increasing  power, 
Serene  to  life's  declining  hour ; 
Then  rise,  released  from  earthly  cares, 
To  heaven,  and  shine  above  the  stars. 

Thus  might  I  still  these  thoughts  pursue, 
The  counsel  wise,  and  good,  and  true, 
In  rhymes  well  meant  and  serious  lay, 
While  through  the  verse  in  sad  array, 
Grave  truths  in  moral  garb  succeed  : 
Yet  who  would  mend,  for  who  would  read  f 

But  when  the  force  of  precept  fails, 
A  sad  example  oft  prevails. 
Beyond  the  rules  a  sage  exhibits, 
Thieves  heed  the  arguments  of  gibbets, 
And  for  a  villain's  quick  conversion, 
A  pillory  can  outpreach  a  parson. 

To  thee,  Eliza,  first  of  all, 
But  with  no  friendly  voice  I  call. 
Advance  with  all  thine  airs  sublime, 
Thou  remnant  left  of  ancient  time  ! 
Poor  mimic  of  thy  former  days, 
Vain  shade  of  beauty,  once  in  blaze  ! 


OF    A    CERTAIN    AGE. 

We  view  thee,  must'ring  forth  to  arms 
The  veteran  relics  of  thy  charms  ; 
The  artful  leer,  the  rolling  eye, 
The  trip  genteel,  the  heaving  sigh, 
The  labour'd  smile,  of  force  too  weak, 
Low  dimpling  in  th'  autumnal  cheek, 
The  sad,  funereal  frown,  that  still 
Survives  its  power  to  wound  or  kill ; 
Or  from  thy  looks,  with  desperate  rage, 
Chafing  the  sallow  hue  of  age, 
And  cursing  dire  with  rueful  faces, 
The  repartees  of  looking-glasses. 

Now  at  tea-table  take  thy  station, 
Those  shambles  vile  of  reputation,  ?£&$* 

Where  butcher'd  characters  and  stale 
Are  day  by  day  exposed  for  sale  : 
Then  raise  the  floodgates  of  thy  tongue, 
And  be  the  peal  of  scandal  rung  ; 
While  malice  tunes  thy  voice  to  rail, 
And  whispering  demons  prompt  the  tale — 
Yet  hold  thy  hand,  restrain  thy  passion, 
Thou  cankerworm  of  reputation  ; 
Bid  slander,  rage  and  envy  cease, 
For  one  short  interval  of  peace  ; 
Let  other's  faults  and  crimes  alone, 
S  urvey  thyself  and  view  thine  own  ; 


176  ADVICE    TO    LADIES 

Search  the  dark  caverns  of  thy  mind, 
Or  turn  thine  eyes  and  look  behind  : 
For  there  to  meet  thy  trembling  view, 
With  ghastly  form  and  grisly  hue, 
And  shrivel'd  hand,  that  lifts  sublime 
The  wasting  glass  and  scythe  of  Time, 
A  phantom  stands  :  his  name  is  Age  ; 
Ill-nature  following  as  his  page. 
While  bitter  taunts  and  scoffs  and  jeers^, 
And  vexing  cares  and  torturing  fears, 
Contempt  that  lifts  the  haughty  eye. 
And  unblest  solitude  are  nigh  ; 
While  conscious  pride  no  more  sustains, 
Nor  art  conceals  thine  inward  pains, 
And  haggard  vengeance  haunts  thy  name, 
And  guilt  consigns  thee  o'er  to  shame, 
Avenging  furies  round  thee  wait, 
And  e'en  thy  foes  bewail  thy  fate. 

But  see.  with  gentler  looks  and  air, 
Sophia  comes.     Ye  youths  beware ! 
Her  fancy  paints  her  still  in  prime, 
Nor  sees  the  moving  hand  of  time ; 
To  all  her  imperfections  blind, 
Hears  lovers  sigh  in  every  wind, 
And  thinks  her  fully  ripen'd  charms, 
Like  Helen's,  set  the  world  in  arms. 


OF   A   CERTAIN   AGE.  177 

Oh,  save  it  but  from  ridicule, 
How  blest  the  state,  to  be  a  fool ! 
The  bedlam-king  in  triumph  shares 
The  bliss  of  crowns,  without  the  cares  ; 
He  views  with  pride-elated  mind, 
His  robe  of  tatters  trail  behind  ; 
With  strutting  mien  and  lofty  eye, 
He  lifts  his  crabtree  sceptre  high ; 
Of  king's  prerogative  he  raves, 
And  rules  in  realms  of  fancied  slaves. 

In  her  soft  brain,  with  madness  warm, 
Thus  airy  throngs  of  lovers  swarm. 
She  takes  her  glass  ;  before  her  eyes 
Imaginary  beauties  rise  ; 
Stranger  till  now,  a  vivid  ray 
Illumes  each  glance  and  beams  like  day ; 
Till  furbish'd  every  charm  anew, 
An  angel  steps  abroad  to  view  ; 
She  swells  her  pride,  assumes  her  power, 
And  bids  the  vassal  world  adore. 

Indulge  thy  dream.     The  pictured  joy 
No  ruder  breath  should  dare  destroy  ; 
No  tongue  should  hint,  the  lover's  mind 
Was  ne'er  of  virtuoso-kind, 
Through  all  antiquity  to  roam 
For  what  much  fairer  springs  at  home. 


178  ADVICE    TO    LADIES,    &C. 

No  wish  should  blast  thy  proud  design  ; 
The  bliss  of  vanity  be  thine. 
But  while  the  subject  world  obey, 
Obsequious  to  thy  sovereign  sway, 
Thy  foes  so  feeble  and  so  few, 
With  slander  what  hadst  thou  to  do  ? 
What  demon  bade  thine  anger  rise  ? 
What  demon  glibb'd  thy  tongue  with  lies  ? 
What  demon  urged  thee  to  provoke 
Avenging  satire's  deadly  stroke  ? 

Go,  sink  unnoticed  and  unseen, 
Forgot,  as  though  thou  ne'er  hadst  been. 
Oblivion's  long  projected  shade 
In  clouds  hangs  dismal  o'er  thy  head, 
Fill  the  short  circle  of  thy  day, 
Then  fade  from  all  the  world  away  ; 
Nor  leave  one  fainting  trace  behind, 
Of  all  that  flutter'd  once  and  shined ; 
The  vapoury  meteor's  dancing  light 
Deep  sunk  and  quench'd  in  endless  night. 


CHARACTERS. 

"  O  WEALTH,  Wealth,  Wealth!   our  being's  end 

and  aim ! 

Gold,  houses,  chattels,  lands !  whatever  thy  name  : 
Thou,  for  whose  sake  advent'rous  arts  we  try, 
Defraud,  extort,  rob,  plunder,  toil  and  die  5 
Tempt  instant  fate  in  war's  tremendous  form, 
Ride  the  salt  wave  and  brave  the  bellowing  storm  : 
Cheerful  I  follow  where  thy  steps  incline, 
Explore  the  waste,  or  dive  the  dang'rous  mine, 
Lose  my  scorn'd  life,  or  gain  an  envied  store, 
And  either  cease  to  be,  or  to  be  poor." 

So  reason'd  Harpax.     Was  this  reasoning  well  ? 
Can  wealth  give  merit  ?  Curio,  thou  canst  tell. 


This  poem  is  a  fragment  of  a  Moral  Essay  in  the  manner  of  Pope. 
Sundry  other  characters  were  inserted,  chiefly  of  persons  then  in 
public  life,  and  drawn  with  such  traits  and  allusions,  as  would  have 
at  once  directed  the  application.  Some  of  them,  as  Pope  ex- 
presses it, 

"  Have  walk'd  the  world  in  credit  to  the  grave," 
and  all  are  now  off  the  stage.     No  part  of  the  Essay  was  ever  hefnr«- 
published. 

24* 


CHARACTERS. 

Why  rears  thy  tower  its  tfophied  arch  so  high. 
And  lifts  its  Attic  pillars  to  the  sky, 
Where  gilded  spires  the  painted  roofs  emblaze, 
And  streams  of  light  revert  the  solar  rays  ? 
Why  stretch  thy  lawns  their  flowery  banks  around, 
Thy  groves  aspire  w7ith  vernal  honors  crown'd, 
Wiiere  the  pure  Naiads,  sporting  as  they  lave, 
In  smooth  meanders  lead  the  lucent  wave  ? 
Why  swells  thy  breast  with  conscious  joy  supplied, 
And  pleased  surveys  the  grand  retreats  of  pride  ? 
These  point  the  glory  round  thy  head  that  plays, 
Forms  all  thy  merit  and  secures  thy  praise. 
What  though  no  strains  of  raptured  genius  hung 
In  tuneful  periods  on  thy  flowing  tongue, 
Blest  with  no  charms  of  figure  or  of  face, 
Commanding  air,  or  soul-attracting  grace  ; 
Though  cautious  Nature,  (niggard  to  dispense) 
Dealt  with  spare  hand  the  common  boon  of  sense  : 
Each  low  defect  thy  splendid  train  conceal, 
Thy  pride  can  varnish  and  thine  art  can  heal ; 
The  form  ungraceful,  and  the  leaden  eye, 
Gay  silks  adorn  and  robes  of  pomp  supply,     [main, 
These- are  thy  charms — and  while  these  charms  re- 
Penurious  Nature  spared  her  gifts  in  vain. 
In  every  contest,  blcss'd  with  every  prize, 
Fear'd  by  the  brave,  and  flatter'd  by  the  wise. 


CHARACTERS.  183 

These  are  the  charms,  whose  uncontroul'd  command 
Gain'd  the  fair  heart  and  won  the  virgin  hand  ; 
These  charms  obtain'd,  in  one  successful  hour, 
Th'  aspiring  title  and  the  robes  of  power, 
Swell'd  the  full  vote  and  o'er  the  throng  prevail'd, 
When  sense  and  art  and  worth  and  wisdom  fail'd. 

Yet,  Crito,  you  can  fortune's  sports  deride, 
And  smile  at  fools,  array'd  in  courtly  pride, 
Despise  a  B***  by  wealth  and  power  elate, 
L***'s  glitt'ring  coach  and  K***'s  chair  of  state  ; 
To  every  ray  of  tinsel  glory  blind, 
You  mark  for  worth  the  merit  of  the  mind. 

Search  then  what  worth  in  tow'ring  genius  lies, 
What  merits  claim  the  witty  and  the  wise. 
In  opening  youth  how  bright  Lothario  shone  ; 
Wit,  learning,  wisdom,  every  worth  in  one  ! 
His  blooming  laurels  graced  the  Muse's  seat, 
Where  Science  nursed  him  in  her  calm  retreat ; 
Then  starting  brilliant  on  the  patriot  stage, 
He  beam'd,  the  day-star  of  the  rising  age. 
Th'  applauding  croud  in  pleased  attention  hung, 
While  playful  humour  wanton'd  on  his  tongue, 
Or  nobly  rising  in  sublimer  thought, 
The  weak  were  raptured  and  the  wise  were  taught. 
Yet  led  through  life,  he  joins  the  lawless  train, 
Though  reason  checks,  though  Virtue  calls  in  vain ; 


184  CHARACTERS. 

Whim,  fancy,  pleasure,  pride,  obstruct  her  sway, 
And  bear  him  devious,  from  her  paths  astray  : 
He  hears  her  voice,  but  borne  by  passion  strong, 
Approves  the  right,*  yet  wanders  in  the  wrong ; 
Pursues  the  blaze  of  prostituted  fame, 
While  vanity  precludes  the  sense  of  shame  ; 
In  daring  vice,  in  impious  faction  sways, 
The  slave  of  lust,  the  pamper'd  dupe  of  praise  ; 
By  learning,  taught  to  doubt  and  disbelieve, 
By  reasoning,  others  and  himself  deceive  ; 
Tastes  the  foul  streams,  where  sensual  pleasures  flow, 
Till  age  untimely  stains  his  locks  with  snow  ; 
Too  late  repentant,  sinks  at  last  to  rest, 
Of  arts  the  scandal,  and  of  fools  the  jest. 


* Video  raeliora,  proboque, 

Deteriora  sequor.  Ovid.  Metam.  lib.  7,  v.  20. 


AN  ELEGY, 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MR.  BUCKINGHAM  ST.  JOHN.* 

May  1771. 


1  HE  world  now  yields  to  night's  returning  sway, 
The  deeper  gloom  leads  on  the  solemn  hour, 

And  calls  my  steps,  beneath  the  moon's  pale  ray, 
To  roam  in  sadness  on  the  sea-beat  shore. 

Now  glide  th'  inconstant  shadows  o'er  the  plain, 
The  broad  moon  swimming  through  the  broken 

The  gleam  of  waters  brightens  on  the  main,  [clouds: 
And  anchor'd  navies  lift  their  wavering  shrouds. 


*  Mr.  St.  John  was  one  of  the  author's  earliest  and  most  intimate 
friends.  For  two  years  they  had  lodgings  in  the  same  chambers; 
during  their  residence,  as  graduates,  at  Yale-College.  He  was 
drowned  in  his  passage  from  New-Haven  to  Norwalk,  May  5th  1771. 
At  the  time  of  his  death,  he  was  one  of  the  Tutors  in  that  Universi- 
tv. 


188  AN    ELEGY. 

Deep  silence  reigns,  save  on  the  rnoory  ground 
The  long  reed  rustling  to  the  passing  gales, 

The  noise  of  dashing  waves  and  hollow  sound 
Of  rushing  winds,  that  murmur  through  the  sails. 

Far  hence,  ye  pleasures  of  a  mind  at  ease, 

The  smiling  charm  that  rural  scenes  can  yield, 

When  spring,  led  jocund  by  the  soft'ning  breeze, 
Wakes  the  glad  morn  and  robes  the  dewy  field  ! 

Far  be  the  giddy  raptures  of  the  gay, 

The  midnight  joys  licentious  youth  can  share, 

While  Ruin,  smiling  o'er  her  destined  prey, 
In  sweet  allurements  hides  the  deadly  snare. 

Mine  be  the  music  of  the  rolling  wave, 

These  moon-light  shadows  and  surrounding  gloom : 

Mine  the  lone  haunts  of  contemplation  grave, 
That  lift  the  soul  to  scenes  beyond  the  tomb. 

For  here,  while  midnight  holds  her  silent  reign, 

Creative  fancy  calls  her  airy  throng, 
Soft  melancholy  wakes  the  soothing  strain, 

And  friendship  prompts  and  grief  inspires  the  song. 

As  through  these  mournful  glooms  I  stretch  my  sight, 
Mid  sounds  of  death,  that  bid  the  soul  attend, 

Mid  empty  forms  and  fleeting  shapes  of  night, 
Slowly  I  view  a  white-robed  shade  ascend, 


AN    ELEGY.  189 

That  says,  "  I  once  was  St.  John  !*  from  the  bounds 
Of  deeps  unknown  beneath  the  dreary  wave, 

Where  ever-restless  floods,  in  nightly  rounds, 
Roll  their  dark  surges  o'er  my.  wat'ry  grave  ; 

"  From  realms  which,  ne'er  to  mortal  sight  display'd, 
The  gates  of  dread  eternity  surround, 

In  night  conceal'd  and  death's  impervious  shade, 
My  voice  returns — attend  the  warning  sound. 

"  O  thou  attend,  who  flush'd  with  early  bloom, 
In  life's  new  spring  and  vernal  sweetness  gay, 

Mindless  of  fate,  that  must  thy  branch  entomb, 
Spread'st  thy  green  blossoms  to  the  morning  ray  ! 

"  With  thee  how  late,  how  like,  alas !  to  thee, 
To  mortal  joys,  by  opening  youth  beguiled, 

I  stretch'd  my  airy  wish,  and  follow'd  free, 

Where  pleasure  triumph'd  and  where  fancy  smiled. 


*  The  surname,  St.  John,  was  always  pronounced  by  that  family, 
both  here  and  in  England,  not  as  two  words,  but  as  one,  with  the  ac- 
cent on  the  first  syllable.  The  name  of  Lord  Bolingbroke  was  Hen- 
ry St.  John.  Pope  thus  addresses  him, 

"  Awake  my  St.  John  !  leave  all  meaner  things" — . 

Essay  on  Man. 

"  If  but  a  wreath  of  mine, 

Oh  all-accomplished  St.  John  !  deck  thy  shrine." 

Epilogue  to  the  Satires. 
25* 


190  AN    ELEGY. 

"  Then  while  fond  hope  her  glitt'ring  pinions  spread, 
Pointing  to  climes  beyond  th'  Atlantic  wave, 

E'en  then  unnoticed  o'er  my  destined  head, 

Hung  death's  dire  form  and  seal'd  me  for  the  grave. 

"  How  vain  the  thought,  for  many  a  joyous  morn 
To  taste  of  rapture,  unallay'd  by  woe  ; 

At  once  from  life  and  every  pleasure  torn, 
From  all  I  wish'd  and  all  I  loved  below ! 

"  The  faithless  morning  on  our  opening  sails 

Smiled  out  serene  and  smooth'd  our  gliding  way, 

While  the  gay  vessel,  fann'd  by  breathing  gales, 
Play'd  on  the  placid  bosom  of  the  sea. 

"  When  lo,  descending  on  the  darkening  wind, 
Burst  the  dire  storm — and  feeble  to  sustain 

"  The  rushing  blasts  in  warring  fury  join'd, 
The  frail  skiff  sinks  beneath  the  surging  main. 

"  And  see,  afar  the  oarless  boat  conveys 
The  rescued  sailors  to  the  distant  shore  ; 

Alone,  of  aid  bereft,  with  one  last  gaze, 
I  sunk  in  deeps,  and  sunk  to  rise  no  more. 

"In  that  sad  hour  what  fearful  scenes  arise, 

What  pangs  distress,  what  unknown  fears  dismay. 

When  future  worlds  disclosing  on  our  eyes, 
The  trembling  soul  forsakes  her  kindred  clay  ! 


AN    ELEGV.  191 

"  Before  the  awful  bar,  th'  almighty  throne, 
In  dread  I've  stood  th'  Eternal  Judge  to  see  ; 

And  fix'd  in  bliss,  or  doom'd  to  ceaseless  moan, 
Have  heard  the  long,  the  unreversed  decree : 

"Nor  earth  must  know  the  rest." — Where  art  Iho'u 
In  youthful  joys  my  partner  and  my  friend?  [now. 

Of  those  blest  hours  thy  fortune  gave  below, 
Of  all  our  hopes,  is  this  the  fatal  end  ? 

Ah,  what  avail'd  that  energy  of  mind, 
The  heights  of  science  and  of  arts  t'  explore. 

That  early  led,  where  genius  unconfined 

Spreads  her  glad  feast  and  opes  her  classic  store ! 

Ah  what  avail'd,  in  earthly  bliss  so  frail, 

The  fame  gay-dawning  on  thy  rising  years  ! 
Ah  what  avail'd, — for  what  could  then  avail  ? 

Thy  friend's  deep  sorrows  or  thy  country's  tears  ! 
In  pleasure's  paths  by  vivid  fancy  led, 

Mid  every  hope,  that  blooming  worth  could  raise. 
The  wings  of  death,  with  fatal  horror  spread, 

Blank'd  the  bright  promise  of  thy  future  days. 

So  from  the  louring  west  the  sable  clouds 
Rush  on  the  sun  and  dim  his  orient  ray, 

And  hateful  night,  in  glooms  untimely,  shrouds 
Th'  ascending  glories  of  the  vernal  day. 


192  AN    ELEGY. 

Adieu,  my  friend,  so  dear  in  vain,  adieu, 

Till  some  short  days  their  fleeting  courses  roll ; 

Soon  shall  our  steps  thine  earlier  fate  pursue, 
Moved  in  the  race  and  crowding  to  the  goal. 

Th'  approaching  hour  shall  see  the  sun  no  more 
Wheel  his  long  course  or  spread  his  golden  ray ; 

Soon  the  vain  dream  of  mortal  life  be  o'er ; 
The  brightness  dawning  of  celestial  day. 

Then  join'd  in  bliss,  as  once  in  friendship  join'd, 
May  pitying  heaven  our  purer  spirits  raise, 

Each  crime  atoned,  each  virtue  well  refined, 
To  pass  a  blest  eternity  of  praise. 


THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  BABYLON  : 

IMITATION 


Of  sundry  passages  in  the  13th  and  14th  chapters  of  Isaiah,  and 
the  18th  of  the  Revelations  of  St.  John. 

January  1774. 


JL  WAS  now  the  sacred  day  of  blest  repose, 
From  realms  of  darkness  when  the  Saviour  rose. 
In  Patmos'  isle,  with  light  divine  inspired, 
The  loved  Apostle  from  the  world  retired ; 
Before  his  eyes  eternal  wonders  roll, 
Celestial  visions  open  on  his  soul, 
Unfolding  skies  the  scenes  of  fate  display, 
And  heaven  descending  in  the  beams  of  day. 

He  saw  with  joy  the  promised  Church  arise,  ' 
Famed  through  the  earth  and  favor'd  from  the  skies. 
A  starry  crown*  invests  her  radiant  head, 
Around  her  form  the  solar  glories  spread ; 


*  Revelations  xii.  1 .  And  there  appeared  a  great  wonder  in  hea- 
ven ;  a  woman  clothed  with  the  sun,  and  the  moon  under  her  feet, 
and  upon  her  head  a  crown  of  twelve  stars. 


196  THE    DESTRUCTIOJN 

Her  power,  her  grace,  by  circling  worlds  approved. 
By  angels  guarded  and  by  heaven  beloved ; 
Till  mystic  Babel,  with  blaspheming  pride, 
For  idol  forms  th'  Almighty  arm  defied. 
Then  martyr'd  blood  the  holy  offering  seal'd, 
And  persecution  dyed  the  carnaged  field,  . 
Religion  sunk  in  superstitious  lore, 
And  hallowed  temples  swam  with  sainted  gore* 

But  not  in  rest,  till  virtue's  sons  expire, 
Stern  justice  slumber'd,  and  avenging  ire. 
The  seer  beheld  till  God's  chastising  hand 
Smote  the  proud  foe  and  crush'd  the  guilty  land : 
Then  pious  rapture  triumph'd  on  his  tongue, 
And  inspiration  breathed  th'  exulting  song. 

"  What  sudden  fall  hath  dimm'd  thy  boasted  ray  ; 
Son  of  the  morn  !*  bright  Phosphor  of  the  day  ! 
How  sunk,  lost  victim  of  th'  unpitying  grave, 
Thy  pride  so  vaunting  and  thine  arm  so  brave  ! 
Where  now  thy  haughty  boast  ?  "  Above  the  skies^ 
O'er  the  starr'd  arch,  my  deathless  fame  shall  rise, 


*  Isaiah  xiv.  12, 13,  &c.  How  art  thou  fallen  from  Heaven,  O 
Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning  ! 

For  thou  hast  saidrin  thine  heart,  I  will  ascend  into  heaven,  I  will 
exalt  my  throne  above  the  stars  of  God— I  will  be  like  the  Most 
High.  * 


OF   BABYLON.  197 

To  heaven's  high  walls  my  tow'ring  step?  ascend, 
My  throne  be  'stablish'd  and  my 'power  extend, 
O'er  the  wide  world  to  stretch  my  arm  abroad, 
A  God  in  splendor  and  in  might  a  God." 

Broke  is  the  rod  of  guilt,  th'  oppressor  ceased,* 
The  glory  wan,  the  golden  city  waste  ; 
Eternal  wrath,  awaken'd  o'er  thy  land, 
Rends  the  weak  sceptre  from  th'  imperious  hand ; 
Heav'n  gives  its  captive  sons  a  kind  release, 
And  earth  smiles  joyous  at  the  songs  of  peace. 

Lo,  at  thy  fall,  in  realms  of  night  below, 
Death  hails  thy  entrance  in  the  world  of  woe  !f 


*  Isaiah  xiv.  4,  5.  How  is  the  oppressor  ceased !  the  golden  city 
ceased  !  The  Lord  hath  broken  the  staff  of  the  wicked,  and  the 
sceptre  of  the  rulers. 

Verse  6.  The  whole  earth  is  at  rest  and  is  quiet :  they  break 
forth  into  singing. 

f  Hell  from  beneath  is  moved  for  thee  to  meet  thee  at  thy  coming, 
&c.  Isaiah  xiv.  9. 

Had  the  author  seen  Lowth's  observations  in  his  lectures  on  the 
poetry  of  the  Hebrews,  he  would  probably  have  written  this  pas- 
sage differently  ;  but  he  had  then  no  other  guide  than  the  English 
version,  in  which  the  sepulchral  cavern  in  the  original,  being  trans- 
lated by  the  word,  hell,  confuses  the  whole  description,  and  renders 
the  subsequent  mention  of  thrones,  worms,  &c.  wholly  incongruous. 
As  he  knew  not  how  to  correct  the  impropriety,  he  could  only  en- 
deavour to  avoid  it. 

26* 


198  THE    DESTRUCTION 

See  from  their  thrones  along  th'  infernal  shade, 
Rise  the  dark  spectres  of  the  mighty  dead ; 
Friends  to  thy  sway  and  partners  in  thy  crimes, 
Kings  once  on  earth  and  tyrants  in  their  times ! 
"  And  art  thou  fall'n,  (their  looks  of  wonder  crave) 
Swept  undistinguish'd  to  the  vaulted  grave  ? 
O'er  thy  pale  cheek  funereal  damps  are  spread, 
And  shrouds  of  sable  wrap  thee  with  the  dead ; 
What  awed  the  world  oblivion's  shadows  hide, 
And  glad  worms  revel  on  the  wrecks  of  pride.* 

"  Is  this  the  power,!  whose  once  tremendous  eye 
Shook  the  wide  earth,  and  dared  th'  avenging  sky  ? 
Is  this  the  power,  that  rose  in  boasted  state, 
Proud  judge  of  thrones  and  arbiter  of  fate  ; 


*  The  worm  is  spread  under  thee  and  the  worms  cover  thee. 

Isaiah,  xiv.  1 1 . 

Nothing  is  more  difficult  than  to  express  the  bold  images  of  orien- 
tal poetry  in  the  style  of  modern  verse.  With  the  exception  of 
Pope's  Messiah,  few  attempts  have  been  successful.  See  in  what, 
manner  an  eminent  British  poet  has  imitated  this  passage — 

"  For  lo  !  Corruption  fastens  on  thy  breast, 

"  And  calls  her  crawling  brood,  and  bids  them  share  the  feast." 
Mason,  Ode  on  the  Jail  of  Babylon. 

f  Isaiah,  xiv.  16,  to  20.  Is  this  the  man  that  made  the  earth  to 
tremble,  that  did  shake  kingdoms,  &c.  1 

All  the  kings  of  the  nations  lie  in  glory,  every  one  in  his  own 
house  [sepulchre.]  But  thou  art  cast  out  of  the  grave,  like  an  abom- 
inable bianch.  Thou  shall  not  be  joined  with  them  in  burial,  &c. 


OF    BABYLON.  199 

Opposing  kingdoms  from  their  sceptres  hurl'd, 
And  spread  sad  ruin  o'er  the  vanquished  world  ? 

"  Lo,  closed  thine  eyes,  that  wont  the  heavens  to 

brave, 

Exposed  in  death,  and  outcast  from  the  grave ! 
No  splendid  urn  thine  honor'd  dust  contains, 
No  friendly  turf  conceals  thy  sad  remains  ; 
For  thee  no  marble  lifts  its  tablet  high, 
Where  kings  deceased  in  mournful  glory  lie  ; 
Stern  fate  avenging  spurns  thee  from  the  blest, 
Nor  decks  the  sods,  where  thy  lone  relics  rest." 

And  see,  Destruction  from  th'  almighty  hand, 
Sweeps  her  broad  besom  o'er  thy  guilty  land  ;* 
Careering  flames  attend  her  wasting  way, 
And  rising  darkness  intercepts  the  day  ; 
The  dim  sun  sinks  in  fearful  glooms  of  night, 
The  moon  encrimson'd  veils  her  trembling  light : 
While  through  the  o'erarching  canopy  of  shade, 
An  angel-form,  in  robes  of  blood  array'd, 


*  Isaiah  xiii.  6,  10,  and  xiv.  23.  I  will  sweep  it  with  the  besom 
of  destruction,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts. 

The  day  of  the  Lord  is  at  hand ;  it  shall  come  as  a  destruction 
from  the  Almighty. 

For  the  stars  of  heaven  and  the  constellations  thereof  shall  not 
give  their  light ;  the  sun  shall  be  darkened  in  his  going  forth,  and 
the  moon  shall  not  cause  her  light  to  shine. 


200  THE    DESTRUCTION 

Lifts  his  red  arm.  that  bids  the  tempest  rise, 
Wing'd  with  th'  ethereal  vengeance  of  the  skies, 
And  calls  the  cloudy  winds,  that  all  around 
Roll  on  the  storm  and  rend  the  deluged  ground, 
And,  deep  in  vaults  where  central  earthquakes  sleep, 
Bursts  the  dark  chambers  of  th'  affrighted  deep. 
Lo.  heaven  avenging  pours  the  fiery  tide, 
Thy  whelm'd  walls  sink,  thy  tottering  turrets  slide ; 
Thy  glitt'ring  domes  sulphureous  torrents  lave, 
And  doom  thy  seat,  a  desert  and  a  grave. 

For  there*  no  more  shall  gay  assemblies  meet, 
Croud  the  rich  mart  or  throng  the  spacious  street ; 
No  more  the  bridegroom's  cheerful  voice  shall  call 
The  viol,  sprightly  in  the  sounding  hall ; 
No  more  the  lamp  shall  yield  her  friendly  light, 
Gild  thy  lone  roofs  and  sparkle  through  the  night ; 


*  Isaiah  xiii.  19 — 22,  and  xiv.  11. — Revelations  xviii.  21 — 23. 
Thy  pomp  is  brought  down  to  the  grave  and  the  noise  of  thy  viols. — 
Babylon,  the  glory  of  kingdoms,  shall  be  as  when  God  overthrew 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah.  It  shall  never  be  inhabited. — The  light  of  a 
candle  shall  shine  no  more  at  all  in  thee  ;  and  the  voice  of  the  bride- 
groom shall  be  heard  no  more  in  thee. — Neither  shall  the  Arabian 
pi  ch  tent  there,  neither  shall  the  shepherds  make  their  fold  there  • 
But  wild  beasts  of  the  desert  shall  lie  there,  and  owls  shall  dwell 
there  and  satyrs  shall  dance  there. — And  the  wild  beast  of  the  isl- 
ands shall  cry  jn  their  desolate  houses,  and  dragons  in  their  pleasant 
palaces. 


OF   BABYLON.  201 

Each  morn  shall  view  thy  desolated  ground, 
With  falling  domes  and  shatter'd  spires  around, 
And  clad  in  weeds,  in  wild  confusion  thrown, 
The  marble  trophy  and  the  sculptured  stone. 
No  future  age  thy  glories  shall  recall, 
Thy  turrets  lift,  or  build  the  ruin'd  wall. 
Where  the  gilt  palace  pierced  th'  admiring  skies, 
The  owl  shall  stun  thee  with  funereal  cries ; 
The  baleful  dragon  through  thy  gardens  rove, 
And  wolves  usurp  the  consecrated  grove. 
No  shepherd  there  the  wand'ring  flock  shall  spreadt 
Nor  seek  repose  beneath  the  tented  shed  ; 
No  stranger  there  with  devious  footstep  stray, 
Where  Horror  drear  defends  the  fated  way, 
Eternal  Ruin  rears  her  standard  wide, 
And  Vengeance  triumphs  o'er  the  realm  of  pride. 


AN  ELEGY  ON  THE  TIMES: 

Composed  at  Boston,  during  the  operation  of  the  Port-Bill.* 
August  1774. 


I_IH  Boston !  late  with  every  beauty  crown'd, 
Where  Commerce  triumph'd  on  the  fav'ring  gales  ; 

And  each  pleased  eye,  that  roved  in  prospect  round, 
Hail'd  thy  bright  spires  and  blcss'd  thy  opening 
sails ! 

Thy  splendid  mart  with  rich  profusion  smiled, 
The  gay  throng  crowded  in  thy  spacious  streets, 

From  either  Ind,  thy  cheerful  stores  were  fill'd, 
Thy  haven  joyous  with  unnumber'd  fleets. 

For  here,  more  fair  than  in  their  native  vales, 
Tall  groves  of  masts  arose  in  beauteous  pride ; 

Glad  ocean  shone  beneath  the  swelling  sails, 
And  wafted  plenty  on  the  bord'ring  tide. 


*  This  vindictive  Act  of  the  British  Parliament  placed  the  town 
of  Boston  in  a  state  of  naval  blockade,  and  by  suppressing  all  com- 
mercial intercourse  by  sea,  was  designed  to  ruin  its  trade  and  pros- 
perity. 

27* 


206  AN    ELEGY 

Alas  how  changed!  the  swelling  sails  no  more 
Catch  the  soft  airs  and  wanton  in  the  sky  : 

But  hostile  beaks  affright  the  guarded  shore, 
And  pointed  thunders  all  access  deny. 

Where  the  bold  cape  its  warning  forehead  rears, 
Where  tyrant  vengeance  waved  her  fatal  wand, 

Far  from  the  sight  each  friendly  vessel  veers, 
And  flies  averse  the  interdicted  strand. 

Along  thy  fields,  which  late  in  beauty  shone, 
With  lowing  herds  and  grassy  vesture  fair, 

Th'  insulting  tents  of  barb'rous  troops  are  strown. 
And  bloody  standards  stain  the  peaceful  air. 

Are  these  thy  deeds,  oh  Britain  ?  this  the  praise, 
That  gilds  the  fading  lustre  of  thy  name, 

These  the  bold  trophies  of  thy  later  days, 
That  close  the  period  of  thine  early  fame  ? 

Shall  thy  strong  fleets,  with  awful  sails  unfurl'd, 
On  freedom's  shrine  th'   unhallow'd   vengeance 

And  leave  forlorn  the  desolated  world,  [bend, 

Crush'd  every  foe  and  ruin'd  every  friend  ? 

And  quench'd,  alas,  the  soul-inspiring  ray, 

Where  virtue  kindled  and  where  genius  soar'd  ; 

Or  damp'd  by  darkness  and  the  dismal  sway 
Of  senates  venal  and  liveried  lord  ? 


ON    THE    TIMES.  207 

There  pride  sits  blazon'd  on  th'  unmeaning  brow, 
And  o'er  the  scene  thy  factious  nobles  wait, 

Prompt  the  mix'd  tumult  of  the  noisy  show, 
Guide  the  blind  vote  and  rule  the  mock  debate. 

To  these  how  vain,  in  weary  woes  forlorn, 
With  abject  fear  the  fond  complaint  to  raise, 

Lift  fruitless  off 'rings  to  the  ear  of  scorn 
Of  servile  vows  and  well-dissembled  praise  ! 

Will  the  grim  savage  of  the  nightly  fold 

Learn  from  their  cries  the  blameless  flock  to  spare  ? 

Will  the  deaf  gods,  that  frown  in  molten  gold, 
Heed  the  duped  vot'ry  and  the  prostrate  prayer  ? 

With  what  pleased  hope  before  the  throne  of  pride, 
We  rear'd  our  suppliant  hands  with  filial  awe, 

While  loud  Disdain  with  ruffian  voice  replied, 
And  falsehood  triumph'd  in  the  garb  of  law  ? 

While  Peers  enraptured  hail  th'  unmanly  wrong, 
See  Ribaldry,  vile  prostitute  of  shame,      [tongue, 

Stretch  the  bribed  hand  and    dart  th'  envenom'd 
To  blast  the  laurels  of  a  Franklin's*  fame ! 


*  See  the  proceedings  in  1 774,  of  the  Lords  in  Council,  on  the 
Petition  of  the  House  of  Representatives  of  Massachusetts  to  the 
King,  praying  for  the  removal  of  their  Governors  ;  and  the  virulent 


208  AN    ELEttY 

But  will  the  Sage,  whose  philosophic  soul 
Control!  d  the  lightning  in  its  fierce  career, 

O'er  heaven's   dread  vault  bade  harmless  thunders 
And  taught  the  bolts  etherial  where  to  steer ;    [roll, 

Will  he,  while  echoing  to  his  just  renown, 

The  voice  of  kingdoms  swells  the  loud  applause, 

Heed  the  weak  malice  of  a  courtier's  frown, 
Or  dread  the  insolence  of  wrested  laws  ? 

Yet  nought  avail  the  virtues  of  the  heart, 
The  vengeful  bolt  no  muse's  laurels  ward ; 

From  Britain's  rage,  like  death's  relentless  dart, 
No  worth  can  save  us  and  no  fame  can  guard. 

O'er  hallow'd  bounds  see  dire  oppression  roll, 
Fair  Freedom  buried  in  the  whelming  flood  : 

Nor  charter'd  rights  her  tyrant  course  control, 
Tho'  seal'd  by  kings  and  witness'd  in  our  blood. 

In  vain  we  hope  from  ministerial  pride 
A  hand  to  save  us  or  a  heart  to  bless : 

'Tis  strength,  our  own,  must  stem  the  rushing  tide, 
'Tis  our  own  virtue  must  command  success. 


and  abusive  attack  on  the  character  of  Dr.  Franklin,  who  presented 
the  Petition,  by  Alexander  Wedderburn,  (afterwards  Lord  Loughbo- 
rough,)  in  his  speech  before  their  Lordships  on  the  trial. 


ON    THE    TIMES.  209 

But  oh  my  friends,  the  arm  of  blood  restrain, 
(No  rage  intemp'rate  aids  the  public  weal ;) 

Nor  basely  blend,  too  daring  but  in  vain, 

Th'  assassin's  madness  with  the  patriot's  zeal. 

Ours  be  the  manly  firmness  of  the  sage, 

From  shameless  foes  ungrateful  wrongs  to  bear ; 

Alike  removed  from  baseness  and  from  rage, 
The  flames  of  faction  and  the  chills  of  fear. 

Repel  the  torrent  of  commercial*  gain, 
That  buys  our  ruin  at  a  price  so  rare, 

And  while  we  scorn  Britannia's  servile  chain, 
Disdain  the  livery  of  her  marts  to  wear. 

For  shall  the  lust  of  fashion  and  of  show, 

The  curst  idolatry  of  silks  and  lace, 
Bid  our  gay  robes  insult  our  country's  woe, 

And  welcome  slavery  in  the  glare  of  dress  ? 

No — the  rich  produce  of  our  fertile  soil 

Shall  clothe  in  neat  array  the  cheerful  train, 

While  heaven-born  virtues  bless  the  sacred  toil, 
And  gild  the  humble  vestures  of  the  plain. 


*  Alluding  to  the  resolves  for  the  non-importation,  and  non-con- 
sumption of  British  goods  :  first  proposed  by  the  Committee  of  cor- 
respondence in  Boston,  in  the  year  1774,  and  adopted  in  Congress  at 
their  session  in  the  succeeding  winter. 


210  AN    ELEGY 

No  foreign  labor  in  the  Asian  field 

Shall  weave  her  silks  to  deck  the  wanton  age : 
But  as  in  Rome,  the  furrow'd  vale  shall  yield 

The  conq'ring  hero  and  paternal  sage. 

And  ye,  whose  heaven  in  golden  pomp  to  shine, 
And  warmly  press  the  dissipated  round, 

Grace  the  ripe  banquet  with  the  charms  of  wine, 
And  roll  the  thund'ring  chariot  o'er  the  ground  ; 

For  this,  while  guised  in  sycophantic  smile, 
With  heart  regardless  of  your  country's  pain, 

Your  flatt'ring  falshoods  feed  the  ears  of  guile, 
And  barter  freedom  for  the  dreams  of  gain  ! 

Are  these  the  joys  on  vassal-realms  that  wait  5 
In  downs  of  ease  and  dalliance  to  repose, 

Quaff  streams  nectareous  in  the  domes  of  state, 
And  blaze  in  grandeur  of  imperial  shows  ? 

No — the  hard  hand,  the  tortured  brow  of  care, 
The  thatch-roof 'd  hamlet  and  defenceless  shed. 

The  tatter'd  garb,  that  meets  th'  inclement  air, 
The  famish'd  table  and  the  matted  bed — 

These  are  their  fate.     In  vain  the  arm  of  toil 
With  gifts  autumnal  crowns  the  bearded  plain, 

In  vain  glad  summer  warms  the  genial  soil, 
And  spring  dissolves  in  softening  showers  in  vain  ; 


ON    THE    TIMES.  21  1 

There  savage  power  extends  a  dreary  shade, 
And  chill  oppression,  with  her  frost  severe, 

Sheds  a  dire  blast,  that  nips  the  rising  blade, 
And  robs  th'  expecting  labors  of  the  year. 

So  must  we  sink  ?  and  at  the  stern  command, 
That  bears  the  terror  of  a  tyrant's  word, 

Bend  the  weak  knee  and  raise  the  suppliant  hand : 
The  scorn'd,  dependant  vassals  of  a  lord  ? 

The  wintry  ravage  of  the  storm  to  meet, 

Brave  the  scorch'd  vapor  of  th'  autumnal  air, 

Then  pour  the  hard-earn'd  harvest  at  his  feet, 
And  beg  some  pittance  from  our  pains  to  share. 

But  not  for  this,  by  heaven  and  virtue  led, 
From  the  mad  rule  of  hierarchal  pride, 

O'er  pathless  seas  our  injured  fathers  fled, 
And  follow'd  freedom  on  th'  advent'rous  tide  ; 

Dared  the  wild  horrors  of  the  clime  unknown, 
Th'  insidious  savage,  and  the  crimson  plain, 

To  us  bequeath'd  the  prize  their  woes  had  won, 
Nor  deem'd  they  suffer'd,  or  they  bled  in  vain. 

And  think'st  thou,  NORTH,*  the  sons  of  such  a  race, 
Whose  beams  of  glory  bless'd  their  purpled  morn, 

*  Lord  North,  prime  minister  of  Great-Britain. 


212  -AN    ELEGf 

Will  shrink  unnerved  before  a  despot's  face, 
Nor  meet  thy  louring  insolence  with  scorn  ? 

Look  through  the  circuit  of  th'  extended  shore, 
That  checks  the  surges  of  th'  Atlantic  deep  ; 

What  weak  eye  trembles  at  the  frown  of  power, 
What  torpid  soul  invites  the  bands  of  sleep  ? 

What  kindness  warms  each  heav'n-illumined  heart ! 

What  gen'rous  gifts*  the  woes  of  want  assuage, 
And  sympathetic  tears  of  pity  start, 

To  aid  the  destined  victims  of  thy  rage  ! 

No  faction,  clamorous  with  unhallow'd  zeal, 

To  wayward  madness  wakes  th'  impassion'd  throng ; 
No  thoughtless  furies  sheath  our  breasts  in  steel, 

Or  call  the  sword  t'  avenge  th'  oppressive  wrong- 
Fraternal  bands  with  vows  accordant  join, 

One  guardian  genius,  one  pervading  soul 
Nerves  the  bold  arm,  inspires  the  just  design, 

Combines,  enlivens,  and  illumes  the  whole. 

Now  meet  the  Fathersf  of  the  western  clime, 
Nor  names  more  noble  graced  the  rolls  of  fame, 


*  Liberal  contributions,  from  all  the  United  Colonies,  were  made 
for  supplying  the  necessities,  and  alleviating  the  distresses  of  the  inhab- 
itants of  Boston,  during  the  total  suppression  of  the  trade  of  that  town. 

f  The  first  Congress  assembled  at  Philadelphia,  in  Sept.  1774. 


ON    THE    TIMES.  213 

When  Spartan  firmness  braved  the  wrecks  of  time. 
Or  Latian  virtue  fann'd  th'  heroic  flame. 

Not  deeper  thought  th'  immortal  sage  inspired, 
On  Solon's  lips  when  Grecian  senates  hung ; 

Nor  manlier  eloquence  the  bosom  fired, 
When  genius  thunder'd  from  th'  Athenian*  tongue. 

And  hopes  thy  pride  to  match  the  patriot  strain, 
By  the  bribed  slave  in  pension'd  lists  enrolPd  ; 

Or  awe  their  councils  by  the  voice  prophane, 
That  wakes  to  utt'rance  at  the  call  of  gold  ? 

Can  frowns  of  terror  daunt  the  warrior's  deeds, 
Where  guilt  is  stranger  to  th'  ingenuous  heart, 

Or  craft  illude,  where  godlike  science  sheds 
The  beams  of  knowledge  and  the  gifts  of  art  ? 

Go,  raise  thy  hand,  and  with  its  magic  power 
Pencil  with  night  the  sun's  ascending  ray, 

Bid  the  broad  veil  eclipse  the  noon-tide  hour, 
And  damps  of  Stygian  darkness  shroud  the  day  ; 

Bid  heaven's  dread  thunder  at  thy  voice  expire, 
Or  chain  the  angry  vengeance  of  the  waves  ; 

Then  hope  thy  breath  can  quench  th'  immortal  fire, 
Arid  free  souls  pinion  with  the  bonds  of  slaves. 


*  Demosthenes. 
28* 


214  AN  ELEGY 

Thou  canst  not  hope !  Attend  the  flight  of  days, 
View  the  bold  deeds,  that  wait  the  dawning  age. 

Where  Time's  strong  arm,  that  rules  the  mighty  maze, 
Shifts  the  proud  actors  on  this  earthly  stage. 

Then  tell  us,  NORTH  :  for  thou  art  sure  to  know, 
For  have  not  kings  and  fortune  made  thee  great ; 

Or  lurks  not  wisdom  in  th'  ennobled  brow, 

And  dwells  no  prescience  in  the  robes  of  state  ? 

Tell  how  the  powers  of  luxury  and  pride 

Taint  thy  pure  zephyrs  with  their  baleful  breath. 

How  deep  corruption  spreads  th'  envenom'd  tide, 
And  whelms  thy  land  in  darkness  and  in  death. 

And  tell  how  rapt  by  freedom's  sacred  flame, 
And  fost'ring  influence  of  propitious  skies, 

This  western  world,  the  last  recess  of  fame. 
Sees  in  her  wilds  a  new-born  empire  rise — 

A  new-born  empire,  whose  ascendant  hour 
Defies  its  foes,  assembled  to  destroy, 

And  like  Alcides,*  with  its  infant  power 

Shall  crush  those  serpents,  who  its  rest  annoy. 


*  Hercules,  who  as  the  ancient  poets  tell  us,  when  an  infant,  stran- 
gled two  serpents  that  attacked  him  in  his  cradle. 


ON    THE   "TIMES.  215 

Then  look  through  time,  and  with  extended  eye, 
Pierce  the  dim  veil  of  fate's  obscure  domain  : 

The  morning  dawns,  th'  effulgent  star  is  nigh, 
And  crimson  glories  deck  our  rising  reign. 

Behold,  emerging  from  the  cloud  of  days, 
Where  rest  the  wonders  of  ascending  fame, 

What  heroes  rise,  immortal  heirs  of  praise !     [flame  ! 
What  fields  of  death   with   conq'ring  standards 

See  our  throng'd  cities'  warlike  gates  unfold  ; 

What  towering  armies  stretch  their  banners  wide, 
Where  cold  Ontario's  icy  waves  are  roll'd, 

Or  far  Altama's*  silver  waters  glide  ! 

Lo,  from  the  groves,  th'  aspiring  cliffs  that  shade, 
Descending  pines  the  surging  ocean  brave, 

Rise  in  tall  masts,  the  floating  canvas  spread, 
And  rule  the  dread  dominions  of  the  wave  ! 

Where  the  clear  rivers  pour  their  mazy  tide, 
The  smiling  lawns  in  full  luxuriance  bloom ; 

The  harvest  wantons  in  its  golden  pride, 

The  flowery  garden  breathes  a  glad  perfume. 


*  "  Where  wild  Altama  murmurs  to  their  woe." 

Goldsmith,  Descried  Village- 

A  river  in  the  State  of  Georgia,  commonly  written  Altamaha, 
from  the  name  given  it  by  the  natives. 


216  AN    ELEGY 

Behold  that  coast,  which  seats  of  wealth  surround, 
That  haven,  rich  with  many  a  flowing  sail, 

Where  friendly  ships,  from  earth's  remotest  bound, 
Float  on  the  cheerly  pinions  of  the  gale  ; 

There  Boston  smiles,  no  more  the  sport  of  scorn, 
And  meanly  prison'd  by  thy  fleets  no  more, 

And  far  as  ocean's  billowy  tides  are  borne, 
Lifts  her  dread  ensigns  of  imperial  power. 

So  smile  the  shores,  where  lordly  Hudson  strays, 
Whose  floods  fair  York  and  deep  Albania  lave, 

Or  Philadelphia's  happier  clime  surveys 

Her  splendid  seats  in  Delaware's  lucid  wave  ; 

Or  southward  far  extend  thy  w7ond'ring  eyes, 
Where  fertile  streams  the  garden'd  vales  divide, 

And  mid  the  peopled  fields,  distinguish'd  rise 
Virginian  towers  and  Charleston's  spiry  pride. 

Genius  of  arts,  of  manners  and  of  arms, 

See  dress'd  in  glory  and  the  bloom  of  grace, 

This  virgin  clime  unfolds  her  brightest  charms, 
And  gives  her  beauties  to  thy  fond  embrace. 

Hark,  from  the  glades  and  every  list'ning  spray, 
What  heaven-born  muses  wake  the  raptured  song  ! 

The  vocal  groves  attune  the  warbling  lay, 
And  echoing  vales  the  rising  strains  prolong. 


ON    THE    TIMES.  217 

Through  the  vast  series  of  descending  years, 
That  lose  their  currents  in  th'  eternal  wave, 

Till  heaven's  last  trump  shall  rend   th'   affrighted 
And  ope  each  empire's  everlasting  grave ;  [spheres, 

Propitious  skies  the  joyous  field  shall  crown, 
And  robe  our  vallies  in  perpetual  prime, 

And  ages  blest  of  undisturb'd  renown 
Arise  in  radiance  o'er  th'  imperial  clime. 

And  where  is  Britain  ?  In  the  skirt  of  day, 
Where  stormy  Neptune  rolls  his  utmost  tide, 

Where  suns  oblique  diffuse  a  feeble  ray, 
And  lonely  streams  the  fated  coasts  divide, 

Seest  thou  yon  Isle,  whose  desert  landscape  yields 
The  mournful  traces  of  the  fame  she  bore, 

Where  matted  thorns  oppress  th'  uncultur'd  fields, 
And  piles  of  ruin  load  the  dreary  shore  ? 

From  those  loved  seats,  the  Virtues  sad  withdrew 
From  fell  Corruption's  bold  and  venal  hand  ; 

Reluctant  Freedom  waved  her  last  adieu, 
And  devastation  swept  the  vassall'd  land. 

On  her  white  cliffs,  the  pillars  once  of  fame, 

Her  melancholy  Genius  sits  to  wail, 
Drops  the  fond  tear,  and  o'er  her  latest  shame, 

Bids  dark  Oblivion  draw  th'  eternal  veil. 


APPENDIX. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTES 

TO 

VOLUME  I. 

Note  1,  to  the  engraved  title  page. — The  vignette  on  this 
page  represents  Apollo  destroying  the  monstrous  serpent,  Py- 
thon, with  his  arrows. — The  story  is  told  by  Ovid  in  the  first 
book  of  the  Metamorphoses. 

Hunc  Deus  arcitenens — exhausta  pene  pharetra, 

Perdidit  eflfuso  per  vulnera  nigra  veneno. 


Note  2,  to  page  66. — As  the  gentleman  who  designed  and 
furnished  the  engravings,  has  selected  Abijah  White,  as  the 
hero  of  this  plate,  it  may  perhaps  gratify  the  reader  to  know 
something  more,  respecting  him,  than  is  stated  in  the  short 
note  on  this  page. 

Previous  to  the  session  of  the  Massachusetts  Legislature,  in 
February  1774,  a  general  effort  was  made  by  the  Royalists,  in 

every  town  in  which  their  numbers  were  considerable,  to  pro- 
29* 


222 

cure  resolves  to  be  passed,  and  instructions  to  be  given  to  the 
representatives,  censuring  the  proceedings  of  the  Whigs,  threat- 
ening vengeance  against  Boston  for  the  destruction  of  the 
Teas,  and  attempting  to  combine  and  support  a  formidable  op- 
position to  the  measures  of  the  country.  Nathaniel  Ray 
Thomas,  one  of  the  new  Mandamus-Council,  by  his  influence 
and  harangues,  at  a  town-meeting  in  Marshfield,  obtained  the 
adoption  of  a  set  of  resolves,  distinguished  by  their  virulence, 
abuse  and  denunciations.  Abijah  White,  on  his  arrival  in 
Boston,  published  them  in  the  newspapers.  This  was  consid- 
ered as  the  watchword  of  the  party,  and  excited  much  alarm 
among  the  leaders  of  the  whigs,  who  feared  the  effects  of  a 
combination,  supported  by  all  the  legal  authority  of  the  pro- 
vince. 

Fortunately  the  Marshfield  address  and  resolves  were  com- 
posed hi  a  most  awkward  and  bombastic  style,  and  were  com- 
pletely open  to  ridicule.  A  sarcastic  and  ironical  answer  im- 
mediately appeared,  calculated  to  expose  them  to  laughter  and 
contempt.  It  concluded  with  an  humble  request,  that  the 
town  of  Marshfield  would  be  graciously  pleased  to  pass  the 
following  counter-resolve  at  their  next  town-meeting. 

"  Voted,  that  whereas  Abijah  White  Esq.  our  high  and 
mighty  Representative,  setting  forth  on  his  adventure,  armed 
Cap-a-pie,  with  a  great  appurtenance  of  swords,  cutlasses,  pis- 
tols, Marshfield  Resolves,  and  other  warlike  ammunition,  hath 
very  much  dismayed,  terrified  and  confounded  the  whole  town 
of  Boston  and  the  Members  of  the  General  Court  5  and  put 
all  those  people,  who  did  not  agree  with  him  in  sentiment. 


228 

into  the  most  violent  fear  of  their  lives;  insomuch  that  it  is 
expected  that  all,  "  who  were  acting,  aiding  and  assisting,  or 
conniving  at  the  destruction  of  the  Teas,"  and  so  had  incur- 
red our  express  resentment,  are  about  to  fly  beyond  the  sea 
to  avoid  the  danger  of  his  prosecutions  :  We  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Town  of  Marshfield,  not  wishing  the  entire  depopula- 
tion of  the  Province,  do  direct  that  the  said  Abijah  White  do 
surcease  from  all  further  proceedings." 

This  novel  mode  of  attack  caught  the  public  attention.  The 
humour  took  ;  poor  Abijah  was  made  the  theme  of  innumer- 
able squibs  in  the  gazettes,  and.  sunk  under  the  burden  of  gen- 
eral ridicule. 


Note  3 — On  the  origin  of  the  words,  Yankies,  Indians, 
Whigs  and  Tories. — When  the  Portuguese  under  Vasco  de 
Gama  made  their  first  discoveries  in  the  East,  they  found 
the  country  at  which  they  arrived,  was  called  by  the  na- 
tives Hindostan  or  the  land  of  the  Hindoos.  These  names 
the  Europeans  softened  to  the  appellations,  India  and  the  In- 
dies. The  original  design  of  Columbus  was  only  to  find  a 
passage  to  India  by  sailing  to  the  West ;  and  when  he  reach- 
ed the  American  Islands,  he  supposed  that  he  had  attained 
his  object.  The  new-discovered  lands  were  called  the  West- 
Indies,  and  the  name  of  Indians  was  given  to  all  the  native  in- 
habitants, not  only  of  those  Islands,  but  of  the  whole  continent 
of  America. 

Yankies. — The  first  settlers  of  Nejv-England  were  mostly 


224 

emigrants  from  London  and  its  vicinity,  and  exclusively  sty- 
led themselves,  The  English.  The  Indians,  in  attempting  to 
utter  the  word,  English,  with  their  broad  guttural  accent,  gave 
it  a  sound,  which  would  be  nearly  represented  in  this  way, 
Yaunghees ;  the  letter  g  being  pronounced  hard  and  ap- 
proaching to  the  sound  of  k  joined  with  a  strong  aspirate,  like 
the  Hebrew  Chelh,  or  the  Greek  Chi,  and  the  /  suppressed, 
as  almost  impossible  to  be  distinctly  heard  in  that  combination. 
The  Dutch  settlers  on  the  river  Hudson  and  the  adjacent 
country,  during  their  long  contest  concerning  the  right  of  terri- 
tory, adopted  the  name,  and  applied  it  in  contempt  to  the  in- 
habitants of  New-England.  The  British  of  the  lower  class 
have  since  extended  it  to  all  the  people  of  the  United  States. 

This  seems  the  most  probable  origin  of  the  term.  The 
pretended  Indian  tribe  of  \ankoos  does  not  appear  to 
have  ever  had  an  existence :  as  little  can  we  believe  in  an 
etymological  derivation  of  the  word  from  ancient  Scythia  or 
Siberia,  or  that  it  was  ever  the  name  of  a  horde  of  savages  in 
any  part  of  the  world. 

Tories  and  Whigs. — The  appellation  of  Tories  was  first 
given  to  the  native  Irish,  who  dwelt,  or  were  driven,  beyond 
the  English  pale,  as  it  was  called,  and  like  the  moss-troopers 
and  outlaws  on  the  borders  of  Scotland,  for  some  centuries  car- 
ried on  a  desultory  and  predatory  war,  against  the  British 
settlements  in  Dublin  and  the  eastern  and  southern  parts  of 
Ireland.  In  the  civil  wars  in  the  time  of  Charles  the  first, 
these  clans  adhered  to  the  royal  party  and  were  finally  at- 
tacked and  subdued  by.  Cromwell. 


225 

In  England  this  name  seems  to  have  been  first  applied  to 
that  part  of  the  army  of  Charles,  who  were  distinguished  by 
the  appellation  of  Cavaliers.  A  number  of  young  noblemen 
and  gentlemen  of  the  first  families,  who  adhered  to  the  king, 
formed  themselves  into  volunteer  troops  of  cavalry.  They 
were  not  more  famous  for  courage  in  the  field,  than  notorious 
for  their  dissolute  manners  and  intemperate  riots.  Singing 
catches  and  ballads  was  then  the  fashionable  music  of  society. 
To  every  stanza  in  the  old  ballads  was  annexed  a  chorus,  call- 
ed the  burden  or  wheel  of  the  song,  which  usually  consisted  of 
a  roll  of  unmeaning  sounds,  in  which  the  whole  company 
joined  with  the  utmost  vociferation.  They  had  a  favorite  bal- 
lad suited  to  the  times,  and  as  much  in  vogue,  as  the  Ca  ira 
was  afterwards  in  the  French  revolution.  Its  chorus  was 

"  Sing  tory  rory,  rantum  scantum,  tory  rory  row." 
The  word,  Tories,  soon  came  into  use  to  denote  a  set  of  bac- 
chanalian companions.     Cotton,  in  his  Virgil  Travesty,  often 
calls  the  Trojans  at  the  court  of  Dido,  Tories,  and  once,  To- 
ry-rories,  according  to  this  signification  of  the  terms. 

The  word  Whig  originally  meant  a  sour,  astringent  kind  of 
crab-apple.  The  ancient  proverbial  comparison,  "  as  sour 
as  a  Whig,"  is  still  in  use  among  the  vulgar.  In  ridicule  of 
the  short,  clipped  hair  and  penitential  scowl  of  the  puritans, 
who  served  in  the  army  of  Cromwell,  the  royalists  called  them 
Whigs,  prick-ears  and  round-heads. 

Whether  these  facts  afford  a  full  explanation  of  the  origin 
of  the  terms  must  be  left  to  the  decision  of  the  antiquarians, 
among  whom  it  has  long  been  a  subject  of  dispute.  Certain 


226 

it  is  that  they  were  never  employed  to  designate  political  par- 
ties in  England,  until  the  period  of  the  civil  wars.  The  roy- 
alists who  believed  in  the  divine  right,  unlimited  prerogatives 
and  arbitrary  power  of  kings,  were  then  stigmatized  by  the 
name  of  Tories.  Those  who  adhered  to  the  Parliament,  as- 
serted the  rights  of  the  Commons,  and  carrying  their  zeal  for 
liberty  to  the  extreme  of  licentiousness  and  anarchy,  finally 
brought  their  monarch  to  the  scaffold,  were  in  return  con- 
temptuously denominated  Whigs.  But  as  early  as  the  com- 
mencement of  the  last  century  the  terms  had  lost  their  origin- 
al opprobrious  meaning :  and  although  the  word,  Tory,  never 
became  reputable,  the  name  of  Whig  was  assumed,  as  an  hon- 
orable title,  by  the  party  opposed  to  arbitrary  prerogative  in 
the  king,  and  to  high-church  principles  in  the  hierarchy.  The 
phrases  now  serve  chiefly  to  distinguish  the  two  great  politic- 
al parties,  into  which  England  has  ever  since  been  divided. 
In  this  sense  they  are  used  by  Swift,  Bolingbroke  and  their 
adversaries,  in  the  time  of  Walpole,  and  more  recently  in  the 
writings  of  Burke  and  some  of  the  later  English  historians. 

During  the  revolutionary  war  in  America,  the  friends  of  lib- 
erty and  Independence  assumed  the  title  of  Whigs,  and  stig- 
matized, as  Tories,  all  those  who  adhered  to  the  king  of 
England  and  advised  submission  to  the  demands  of  the  Bri- 
tish parliament.  In  this  sense  the  terms  are  used  in  M'Finr 
gal  and  by  all  cotemporary  writers  on  American  politics. 
But  since  the  acknowledgement  of  our  Independence  and  the 
adoption  of  a  constitutional  form  of  government  in  the  United 
States,  these  names  have  gradually  fallen  into  disuse,  are  con- 


227 

sidered  as  expressions  approaching  towards  vulgarity  and  al- 
most banished  from  polite  conversation.  Parties  have  arisen 
upon  new  grounds  and  principles  of  policy,  and  are  distinguish- 
ed by  new  appellations. 


As  the  following  letters  may  serve  to  explain  more  fully  the 
design  of  the  author  in  his  M'Fingal,  the  publisher  has  ob- 
tained his  permission  to  insert  them  iu  an  Appendix. 

Letter  from  the  Marquis  de  Chaslellux  to  the  author  of 
M  Fingal. 

PARIS,  December  15th  1784. 
SIR — 

WHATEVER  Success  your  excellent  Poem  of  M'FlHOAIi 
may  have  obtained  and  deserved,  I  can  assure  you  that  few 
persons  have  read  it  with  more  pleasure  than  myself.  I  be- 
lieve that  you  have  rifled  every  flower,  which  that  kind  of  poet- 
ry could  offer — which  is  not  permitted  to  be  only  moderately 
agreeable.  Homer  was  indulged  to  slumber  when  he  wrote 
his  Iliad  and  Odyssey  ;  but  it  was  forbidden  him,  on  pain  of 
becoming  insupportable,  to  nod  one  moment  when  he  compo- 
sed his  Batrachomuomachia.  Burlesque  poetry  requires  more 
than  a  gaiety  always  equal,  always  natural,  always  playful. 
It  requires  an  interest,  a  design,  in  the  work.  It  is  necessary 
to  decorate  with  pleasantry  a  cause  good  and  popular  in  itself; 
it  is  necessary,  that  cause  should  be  victorious,  because  the 
author  is  obliged  to  take  a  tone  of  superiority  ;  it  is  also  ne- 
cessary that  it  should  not  be  completely  victorious,  that  he 
may  give  it  a  force  and  poignancy  by  rendering  it  useful. 

These,  Sir,  are  the  conditions  prescribed  for  Burlesque  Poetry. 
.SO* 


230 

and  these  you  have  happily  seized  and  perfectly  complied 
with — nor  do  I  hesitate  to  assure  you  that  I  prefer  it  to  every 
work  of  the  kind — even  to  Hudibras.  But  as  I  am  not  the 
only  one  of  this  opinion,  and  several  persons  in  France  would 
be  extremely  glad  to  have  it  in  their  possession,  you  would  do 
me  a  real  pleasure,  if  you  would  be  pleased  to  send  several 
copies  to  the  care  of  Mons.  Marbois,  as  it  will  be  a  great  satis- 
faction to  me,  to  spread  the  fame  of  the  author  of  M'Fingal, 
and  to  give  him  that  testimony  of  the  sentiments,  with  which 
I  am.  &c. 


Extracts  from  the  Author's  Answer. 

HARTFORD,  May  20th  1785. 
SIR — 

THODGH  I  cannot  but  ascribe  to  your  politeness  some  pas- 
sages in  the  letteV,  with  which  you  have  favored  me,  I  should 
do  injustice  to  my  own  feelings,  not  to  acknowledge  myself 
highly  honored  by  your  attention  and  flattered  by  your  good 
opinion.  I  should  have  been  happy  to  have  seen  the  rules, 
you  so  justly  prescribe  for  burlesque  poetry,  before  I  compos- 
ed M'Fingal ;  but  am  pleased  to  find  you  approve  of  my  idea, 
that  this  kind  of  poetry,  as  well  as  the  sublime,  demands  a 
regular  plan  and  design.  I  own  myself  to  have  been  disap- 
pointed in  reading  almost  every  poem  of  the  sort,  by  its  irreg- 
ularity and  deficiency  in  this  view.  The  last  canto  of  the 
Lutrim  concludes  in  a  manner  very  unsatisfactory  to  the  read- 


231 

---s 

er.  The  poet  gets  rid  of  his  story  in  a  very  singular  way,  b} 
desiring  his  patron  to  finish  it.  Garth,,  his  English  imitator, 
ends  his  Dispensary  by  sending  his  hero  to  the  Elysian  fields 
to  consult  the  goddess  Hygeia,  who  gravely  advises  him  to  go 
home  and  apply  by  petition  to  the  Secretary  of  State.  The 
fourth  book  of  Pope's  Dunciad  has  scarcely  any  connection 
with  the  former  parts,  either  in  manner  or  design.  Indeed  all 
these  poems  seem  to  have  been  intended  merely  as  vehicles 
for  ridicule  and  satire ;  and  when  those  topics  are  exhausted, 
the  work  is  of  course  at  an  end.  Writers  of  such  transcendent 
merit  can  easily  sustain  the  highest  poetical  reputation,  even 
in  the  neglect  of  the  arts  of  composition,  and  the  formal  rules 
of  criticism,  which  may  perhaps  sometimes  check  and  impede 
the  most  daring  flights  of  imagination. 

[After  a  few  more  critical  remarks,  the  writer  proceeds  in 
the  following  manner.] 

In  obedience  to  your  request,  signified  to  me  by  our  mutual 

friend,  Colonel ,  I  will  now  state  without  reserve  the 

plan  and  design,  upon  which  the  poem  of  M'Fingal  was  con- 
structed. It  was  written  merely  with  a  political  view,  at  the 
instigation  of  some  leading  members  of  the  first  Congress,  who 
urged  me  to  compose  a  satirical  poem  on  the  events  of  the 
campaign  in  the  year  1775.  My  design  was  to  give,  in  a  po- 
etical manner,  a  general  account  of  the  American  contest,  with 
a  particular  description  of  the  characters  and  manners  of  the 
times,  interspersed  with  anecdotes,  which  no  history  would 
probably  record  or  display  :  and  with  as  much  impartiality 
as  possible,  satirize  the  follies  and  extravagancies  of  my  coun- 


232 

trymen,  as  well  as  of  their  enemies.  I  determined  to  describe 
every  subject  in  the  manner  it  struck  my  own  imagination,  and 
without  confining  myself  to  a  perpetual  effort  at  wit,  drollery 
and  humour,  indulge  every  variety  of  manner,  as  my  subject 
varied,  and  insert  all  the  ridicule,  satire,  sense,  sprightliness 
;  and  elevation,  of  which  I  was  master.  In  a  word,  I  hoped  to 
write  a  burlesque  poem,  which  your  Boileau  would  not  have 
condemned,  with  those  of  Scarron  and  Dassouci,  "aux  plai- 
sans  du  Pont-neuf." 

To  throw  this  design  into  a  regular  poetical  form,  I  intro- 
duced M'Fingal,  a  fictitious  hero,  who  is  the  general  represent- 
ative of  the  party,  whom  we  styled  Tories,  in  New-England. 
The  scenes  in  which  he  is  engaged,  the  town-meeting,  the 
mobs,  the  liberty-pole,  the  secret  cabal  in  the  cellar,  the  opera- 
tion of  tarring  and  feathering,  &c.  were  acted  in  almost  every 
town.  His  exertions  in  favor  of  Great-Britain  are  regularly 
completed  by  his  flight  to  Boston,  to  which  event  every  inci- 
dent in  the  poem  tends  :  in  the  course  of  which,  all  the  transac- 
tions of  the  war,  previous  to  the  period  of  his  flight,  are  natu- 
rally introduced  in  narration.  The  subsequent  events  are 
shown  in  the  customary  and  ancient  poetical  way  in  a  vision  ; 
in  which  I  availed  myself  of  the  claims  of  the  Scotch  High- 
landers, to  the  gift  of  prophecy  by  second-sight,  as  a  novel 
kind  of  machinery,  peculiarly  appropriate  to  the  subject,  and 
exactly  suited  to  a  Poem,  which  from  its  nature  must  in  every 
part  be  a  parody  of  the  serious  Epic.  In  the  style,  I  have 
preferred  the  high  burlesque  to  the  low,  (which  is  the  style  of 
Hudibras)  not  only  as  more  agreeable  to  my  own  taste,  but  as 


233 

it  readily  admits  a  transition  to  the  grave,  elevated  or  sublime : 
a  transition  which  is  often  made  with  the  greatest  ease  and 
gracefulness,  in  the  satirical  poems  of  Pope  and  Despreaux.*** 


EXTRACTS. 

The  following  extracts  might  perhaps  have  been  inserted, 
with  strict  propriety,  in  the  Memoir  which  accompanies 
these  volumes,  as  shewing  the  estimation  in  which  the  sub- 
ject of  that  memoir  was  held  by  his  friends  and  contempora- 
ries. The  publisher  inserts  them  here,  as  throwing  some 
light  upon  the  biography,  and  also  as  furnishing  an  amusing 
reflection  upon  the  statement  of  the  Quarterly  Review,  that 
the  Author  of  M'Fingal,  is  "  one  Mr.  Fingal,"  who  as  they 
gravely  assure  us  "  is  no  descendant  of  the  hero  of  Ossian." 

"  Hence  too,  where  Trumbull  leads  the  ardent  throng, 
Ascending  bards  begin  th'  immortal  song  : 
Let  glowing  friendship  wake  the  cheerful  lyre, 
Blest  to  commend,  and  pleased  to  catch  the  fire. 
Be  theirs  the  fame,  to  bards  how  rarely  given  ! 
To  fill  with  worth  the  part  assign'd  by  heaven ; 
Distinguish'd  actors  on  life's  busy  stage, 
Loved  by  mankind,  and  useful  to  the  age  ; 
While  science  round  them  twines  her  vernal  bays, 
And  sense  directs,  and  genius  fires  their  lays." 

President  Dmght's  letter  to  Cot.  Humphreys.. 


234 

"  With  keen-eyed  glance  through  nature  far  to  pierce, 

With  all  the  powers  and  every  charm  of  verse, 

Each  science  opening  in  his  ample  mind, 

His  fancy  glowing  and  his  taste  refined, 

See  Trumbull  lead  the  train.     His  skilful  hand 

Hurls  the  keen  darts  of  satire  thro'  the  land. 

Pride,  knavery,  dulness  feel  his  mortal  stings, 

And  listening  virtue  triumphs  while  he  sings; 

Britain's  foil'd  sons,  victorious  now  no  more, 

In  guilt  retiring  from  the  wasted  shore, 

Strive  their  curst  cruelties  to  hide  in  vain, 

The  world  shall  learn  them  in  his  deathless  strain." 

Barlow's  Vision  of  Columbus. 


"  Why  sleep'st  thou,  Barlow,  child  of  genius  !  why 
See'st  thou,  blest  Dwight,  oar  land  in  sadness  lie  1 
And  where  is  Trumbull,  earliest  boast  of  fame  ? 
'Tis  yours,  ye  bards,  to  wake  the  smother'd  flame — 
To  you,  my  dearest  friends !  the  task  belongs 
To  rouse  your  country  with  heroic  songs." 

Humphreys*  Future  Glory  of  America. 


"  And  found  my  Trumbull  at  New-Haven ; 
Than  whom,  more  humour  never  man  did 
Possess— nor  lives  a  soul  more  candid — 


235 

But  who,  unsung,  would  know  hereafter 
The  repartees,  and  peals  of  laughter, 
Or  how  much  glee  those  laughters  yield  one, 
Maugre  the  system  Chesterfieldian !" 

Humphreys'  Miscellanies. 

"  Lo !  Trumbull  wakes  the  lyre, 

With  all  the  fervour  of  poetic  fire ; 
Superior  Poet!  in  whose  classic  strain 
In  bright  accordance  wit  and  fancy  reign ; 
Whose  powers  of  genius  in  their  ample  range 
Comprise  each  subject  and  each  tuneful  change, 
Each  charm  of  melody  to  Phrebus  dear, 
The  grave,  the  gay,  the  tender  and  severe." 

Richard  Alsop., 


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